Stella
by Raincloud
Summary: Stephan Groomsman's daughter ends up on a deadly adventure involving bandits, dark magic, uncanny old ladies, and an arogant seven-year-old. At long last, the ending! I'm taking plot requests for the sequel
1. Dust and Boredom

Stella ducked as an arrow whizzed over her head. She pushed Lord Lucas down in front of her along the horse neck, and then she shielded his body with her own. Allowing the blind panic within her to rise she urged her horse still faster, feeling her magic spread the panic into his mind. The panic was contagious and they were like a herd, their panic flowed through each other ever building.  
  
After a few moments which felt like hours Stella swallowed hard and regained control. She slowed the stolen horse she was riding and glanced over her shoulder. They appeared to have lost their pursuers. She sighed in relief, wondering what to do next.  
  
Suddenly she felt an unpleasant warm wetness in front of her legs, then she smelled the urine. Lord Lucas had apparently wet himself in fright. Stella groaned. How exactly had she come to be riding at breakneck speed through the woods on a stolen horse, with a runaway young lord, carrying a message of the utmost importance to her king while being chased by skeletons that shot arrows at her? Good question. She knew the answer would come to her in a moment. It had something to do with being bored and wanting an adventure. Why didn't I just go with trader Onua to the horse fair? That would have been plenty of adventure for my first time away from home, but oh no, I had to do something more exciting, she thought glumly to herself. Yes, she knew how this had all started, she just didn't know if she would live through the ending.  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
Stella awoke excited on her fourteenth birthday. One more year, she thought to herself, just one more year and I can join the Riders. She had wanted to join since she had begun working in the stables at the age of eight. The Riders went places and did things, they didn't just groom and exercise horses for nobles. The exciting, mounted lifestyle of the Riders had always appealed to her.  
  
Stella loved horses, she had a great deal of Wild-Magic with them as well; this she had inherited from her father, Stephen Groomsman. She wanted to spend her life working with horses. And she would probably be able to too. Her father wouldn't say it, but she knew she was the best stable-hand in the barn. Horse trader Onua had even offered to take her on as an apprentice that year.  
  
Then again, she thought to herself, a year could be a long time, a very very long time. Twelve whole months dragging by ever so slowly. Stella sighed and threw the covers off her legs, flinching slightly as the chilly spring breeze hit her body. She walked over to her small clay wash basin and wet her face. Then she tore of her night dress and traded it for loose breeches, a shirt, and tunic; Stella never wore skirts.  
  
She climbed down from her loft room glancing around to see if her brother was awake yet; no, he was still snoring in the loft room across from her. Stella, her brother, and her father had lift in loft rooms in the Palace stables since the death of her mother.  
  
Upon reaching the bottom of the ladder she walked down the length of the stable saying good morning to her favorite horses. She spotted Darkmoon happily eating from a grain bucket in his stall. Stella smiled. She had enjoyed caring for Darkmoon in the week since the Lioness's arrival. Her squire Neal's horse was in stalls next to Darkmoon's.  
  
"I thought you would be awake by now," her father called to her. She turned and saw him entering the nearest side of the stable carrying a handful of apple turnovers.  
  
"Happy Birthday! I have breakfast right here." He handed her a turnover and she bit into it savoring the crisp, flaky exterior, and the warm cinnamon interior. Apple turnovers were a rare treat and one of her favorite foods.  
  
"Thank you so much," she told him.  
  
"You're welcome. Now to business," Stephen was all about business in his stables, "I want you to groom and saddle all the knights' and squires' horse from here to the tack room; there was a spridren attack last night, and the Wild Mage believes there are giants moving through the royal forest. Now, quickly or I'll have an ear."  
  
"Yes, sir," she said, birthday or not there was always work to do in the stables. 'I'll have an ear' was a phrase Stephen used with his children that hearkened from his days as spy for the Rogue. Stella wasn't sure whether he was still a spy or not, it was the one thing she would never ask her father about.  
  
She started work right away brushing each horse, picking its feet, and then saddling it for a long ride. The squires and knights could bridle their own horses as soon as they arrived, they must be leaving in a hurry if she was required to saddle the horses herself.  
  
Suddenly Stella saw a figure creeping furtively along the row of stalls opposite her. She turned and trotted over to investigate. It was Nealan of Queenscove, he raised a finger to his lips and dove behind a few bales of hay. She shrugged and finished saddling Starlight.  
  
A few moments later the Lioness appeared, she walked briskly over to Darkmoon, who was already saddled, and fed him a sugar lump. She looked around for her errant squire; he was nowhere to be seen.  
  
She stood, hands on her hips, and called, "Neal, Where are you?" When he didn't appear she continued, "We have five giants to tackle, and I'd still like to have some time to have you practice healing knife wounds this afternoon." Still no sign of her squire. "I know you're in here. Come on, giants are really wonderful stress relief once you get used to them." Neal didn't appear. Stella stifled a giggle. "Nealan of Queenscove," said the King's Champion in a very clipped voice, "my temper is beginning to fray."  
  
Stella decided she had better intervene before Lady Alanna's temper frayed completely and she did something that would unsettle the horses.  
  
"Try the hay over there," she called pointing.  
  
"Thank you," the Lioness replied. She began marching deliberately towards the hay.  
  
A very sheepish Neal emerged, holding an open philosophy book in one hand. He glanced nervously at Alanna then swallowed guiltily. She frowned at him sternly. Then she pointed to his horse.  
  
"Mount!"  
  
Neal nodded silently and took the bridle Stella handed to him. "Thank you ever so much," he muttered dryly to her as he fit the bridle on his horse's head.  
  
Stella said a sarcastic "You're welcome" just as Lady Allana said "I heard that Neal."  
  
Lady Alanna called "Happy Birthday," to Stella just before she mounted.  
  
Stella's jaw dropped slightly. "How did you—"  
  
"George," the Lioness answered her question before she could finish it. "George has more eyes and ears than any one man could possibly ever use, and he remembers everything about everyone." The Lioness smiled, then mounted Darkmoon.  
  
Stella smiled back, her father had been one of those sets of eyes and ears, and perhaps he still was. Then a thought struck her, maybe she could be too. It would certainly make life more exciting.  
  
Stella finished saddling the remainder of the horses and longingly watched as the knights ride off to what just had to be an adventure. She wanted adventure too, stable work was wonderful in its way, but it could be so boring. That was why she wanted to join the Riders.  
  
Stella, then, with her father's permission groomed her own horse Moose. Moose was a small brown mare with a grayish undertone across her coat, adorable ears, and a dependable personality. She had hoped to go on a brief trail ride with her horse to celebrate her birthday, but due to the days events her father judged it unsafe, so she decided to take Moose for a ride around the castle grounds instead.  
  
Stella spent the rest of the day with her best friends in the world: horses. She didn't really have any human friends. The palace serving girls were always a bit disgusted by the accumulation of horse manure on her clothes and the hay in her hair. Stella sometimes spent her time with the other stable workers, but they were often busy, and often didn't like to be reminded that she was Stephen's daughter and had Wild Magic. Horses, on the other hand, had no objections to her appearance and loved her all the more for having Wild Magic. She had a wonderful time butting noises with old and new friends and chasing with the horses through the field, feeling her magic play across their emotions.  
  
After her birthday things quieted down for a few months. For Stella they were unbearable quiet. The spidren and giants had been disposed of without incident. There were always plenty of horses and ponies to care for, even if many knights set off for home for the fall. She grew immensely restless of the endless repetition of days, broken only by the occasional scrabble with a stable boy over who would hold the kings stirrup has he mounted and thereby wish him good luck. The only interesting event was when one of these scrabbles went a little too far.  
  
One of the stable boys had beat her to the kings horse. "You're horse dung," she had muttered, as soon as the king was out of earshot, "the watery green kind." He had proceeded to tell her what portion of a horse's anatomy she resembled. Stephen had found them ten minutes later throwing horse dung at each other ( it was not the watery green kind, but the kind that has dried in a pile for weeks.) Needless to say, he was not pleased. Stella decided that the cleanup was a lot less fun than the throwing.  
  
She still had her lessons with Daine and Numair, special lessons had been recently arranged for all children with Wild Magic. The classes were sometimes interesting and useful, but often they repeated the same things for the newer children. Daine occasionally kept Stella late and worked her harder, trying to expand her range of abilities, but she was often busy. Stella tried to make life less boring by using what she learned the next day and throughout the week until her next class, it was easiest communicating with Moose of course. Sometimes she even heard Numair and Daine muttering about her, but she thought that was only because of the contrast she made with the other children in her class.  
  
It was towards the end of summer that Stella began to grow restless. It seemed to her that through each long day she repeated the same exact chores in the same exact order at the same exact time, while everyone else did exactly the same thing they always did.  
  
In an attempt to make life more interesting she borrowed a bow and some arrows from the Riders' supplies and began riding Moose out to a nearby clearing where she could practice. Her practice wasn't going well, however, after two months she still considered herself lucky if the arrow went in the general direction she was aiming in. 


	2. A New Idea

One day, after a particularly chaotic class with Daine involving a girl with an affinity for squirrels and her hysterical, squirrel-like parents, Stella had an unfortunate idea. She was just passing the stall of one of the king's hunting horses, when she sensed him begging for a ride. He seemed desperate to get out of his stall and do something, anything. He just had to feel wind and sunlight and to be in motion. Stella felt immediately sympathetic for him.  
  
"It's all right, Pinecone," she told the horse whose nickname came from his aptitude for getting things stuck in his tail, "I'll take you for a ride as soon as I can." Then inspiration struck, and Stella nodded to herself. "Tonight, in fact," she said to Pinecone. Then she positively skipped through a dusty shaft of sunlight and scampered up the ladder to her room. Working hastily and quietly she cleaned her saddle and made she her sadly bags were empty. She rolled up two blankets, a cloak and some spare clothes, trying to make them as compact as possible, and stuffed them in one saddle bag. Then looking around to make sure she wouldn't be missed Stella dashed of to the kitchens.  
  
She managed to keep up an innocent conversation with a cook while borrowing as much bread and dried meat as she could get her hands on. Then, hurrying off, she was able to unobtrusively grab some early apples from a supply barrel. This food she carefully stowed in her other saddle bag.  
  
Now came the hard part. Stella slowly placed a quill pen and some cheap paper on the floor. Then she sat down and tried several different positions. She stared at the paper for a while, then glowered at it, then stuck her tongue out at it. Finally she wrote the words: "Dear father, I love you very much, and I hope you will understand. I just have to get out and do something, anything." That's and okay start, she thought to herself, then she sighed, got up, and stomped around the room. Then she lay down on her stomach and began writing again. "I need to get out and see the world, and I feel like I have way too long to wait to join the Riders. I love it here, but its to quiet and boring; and I need a little break. About Pinecone, I'm not stealing him, I have every intention of returning with him, its just that he needs a break too. I hope you can clear things up with everyone about him. Love, Stella." There, she told herself, I don't won't to make it too long.  
  
Stella tucked the letter under her pillow and went down to groom Pinecone. He was fairly clean but she also used grooming him as a excuse to make sure he was sound. Her excitement echoed through his mind and she had some difficulty calming him down before she left his stall.  
  
Stella went out into the pasture to say goodbye to Moose. "I hope you'll understand," she told her pony, "but you're not quite the right material for what I want to do." Moose shot her a hurt look. "Besides, I know you love it here with Daine and my father," she added rather defensively. Moose gave an unconvinced whuffle. "Oh, Moose, I want you to stay here so that I'll always know I have a friend to come back to." Finally, Moose trotted over and blew warm reassuring air into her ear. Stella threw her arms around Moose's neck and tried to ignore the hot tears sliding down her cheeks.  
  
She might have had an easier time acting normally at dinner if her family had had a normal dinner. On the other hand, her father wasn't there to notice her unusual behavior anyway. Stella, her brother and Stephen had gathered at a small, uneven wooden table in the loft room where they usually ate and where just beginning supper when a stable boy knocked on the wall outside the open doorway.  
  
"Yes?" Stephen called, as he cut into his potato.  
  
"Um, well, you see.."  
  
"Spit it out," his gruff words were said gently rather than harshly.  
  
The stable boy swallowed. "There's a man, a most unusual man here to see you sir, he says I'm to introduce him as Golfin, sir."  
  
Stephen choked on his potato. He coughed it up and then swallowed a quarter of his beer. "Kids, finish dinner without me, then go to bed. This will probably take a while and I want to get an early start tomorrow." Then he hurried out the door and down the ladder. 


	3. Escape

Please note: the majority of the characters are the creations of Tamora Pierce, as is the location of the story.  
  
"Goodnight!" Stella called after her father, but he didn't answer and her voice echoed eerily through the barn. She looked at her brother, Luke and shrugged. He shrugged back. Then she sat back down at the table and finished her meal. After she had finished eating she covered her father's plate with a towel and made Luke help her do the dishes ( family arguments had a way of becoming rather horse-like with lots of head nodding and stamping for emphasis.)  
  
Finally she said goodnight to her brother in the traditional way they had established since their mother's death. She bent down and kissed his forehead, then bent down so he could kiss her forehead, and then hugged him. She bit her lip to avoid crying as she realized this might be the last time she said goodnight to her brother in a long time.  
  
Stella walked into her room, glanced out the tiny window at the fading dusk, and sighed softly. Then a strange calm came over her as she dug her letter to her father out from underneath her pillow. She set it on top of the bed, right in the center, where he couldn't miss it. Stella buried her nose in between her pillow and the quilt her mother had made long ago and tried to imagine her mother's scent; a soothing combination of rosemary and honeysuckle, that had calmed her upsets early in life.  
  
"Goodbye, ma," she whispered. Then she sat down on a corner of the bed and wrung her hands rather nervously, waiting for her father to return. Dusk had long since darkened into night when he returned. She nearly jumped as she heard him speaking, probably to Golfin. His voice was rough and low, growl-like.  
  
"…No! I most certainly will not. I've done many things in my life, some of which I'm proud of, some of which I'm not, but whatever else I may be I am no traitor. I won't even consider it!"  
  
Stella stood on tiptoe, startled and slightly puzzled. Then she saw her father's shadowy form enter his own room and heard him getting into bed. She sank back down onto her heels and took three deep calming breaths, as she had been taught by Daine. Then, as carefully and as quietly as was possible, flinching as her nervous mind magnified ever sound she made, she gathered up her bow and arrows and saddlebags. She hastened down the ladder, freezing only once as it creaked beneath her feet. She didn't dare to move or breath for a long moment, then hearing no unusual noises she pressed on.  
  
Pinecone was entirely aware of her intentions and shared her pent up excitement, twitching his ears and whisking his tail in anticipation. He even cooperated as she hurriedly saddled him and ducked his ears into the bridle.  
  
She almost quit and went back to her room as she hesitated while leading him out of the stall. This is probably the stupidest, most irresponsible thing I have ever done, she thought, but on the other hand, I have too, I'll go crazy if I don't. She nodded to herself, and slowly walked forward.  
  
The night air was exhilarating as she led, Pinecone out of the stables and slunk of the palace grounds. Although everything was silent, she could have sworn the stars were singing. The moon seemed to be watching her, calmly, peacefully, and motherly yet in a completely nonjudgmental way. Maybe, she thought, this isn't such a bad idea.  
  
As soon as she was sure she was clear of the palace grounds, and alone and unwatched in the streets of Corus she mounted Pinecone. She started at a walk. Pinecone instinctively began trotting as they neared the borders of the city. Stella reined in at the signposts. She examined them closely and then shivered. She had been planning to head south, maybe to Irontown, but now, suddenly she had the strangest impulse to head north, perhaps towards Scranra. She wasn't sure why, but suddenly it seemed important to follow her intuition.  
  
It would be a lie to say that Stella rode off without a backward glance, for she set off at a brisk trot and had many backward glances, some wistful, and some disdainful, before her home was out of sight and she urged Pinecone into a canter.  
  
Then, Stella got a head full of night air and freedom. Her joy only urged Pinecone faster. She learned forward and buried her hands in his mane, holding back the impulse to laugh out loud. A pulse deep inside her body seemed to join Pinecone's hoof beats, and suddenly she had wings across the dark sky. She was fast and invincible. She was free. 


	4. Moving On

Please note: the location, and many of the characters belong to Tamora Pierce. I'm sorry this chapter is so short. I will try to post more again tomorrow.  
  
Stella rode all through the night, a long slow canter broken occasionally by spells of trotting and walking. She was trying to get as many miles between herself and home as possible during the night. Somehow she felt that if home was farther away she would be less likely get frightened and head for home, besides the fact that people from home would be less likely to find her (she wasn't sure about the legality of borrowing Pinecone.)  
  
As the eastern clouds grew lighter she drew Pinecone to a slow walk and reached back into her saddle bag for a hunk of bread and an apple. The bread was a little squished but perfectly good, and the apple was one of the first of the season, tart and just barely ripe. Forever afterwards the crisp taste of apple would remind her of freedom. Later, after the road entered a forest, she stopped at a stream and bent over it to drink some water. She stopped for a while at the stream, allowing Pinecone to drink and rest.  
  
After a few hours she mounted again and continued down the road, which was becoming narrower and more trail like. The day was peaceful, and the forest quiet. Only a few animals could be heard. Stella savored the sun on her skin and the breeze against her cheeks. Pinecone was tired, and moving at a plodding pace, but Stella didn't mind. A sluggish calm had come over her and she was content to move slowly and take things as they came.  
  
In late afternoon they came to a stream and Stella decided to stop for the day. She was absolutely exhausted. She untacked Pinecone and made sure he understood not to go far. Then she removed all the sticks from a patch of forest floor and set her blankets on it. She grabbed a hunk of bread for dinner.  
  
Just as she finished her meal, she realized how unprepared she was. I don't even know what I want to do, she thought, there's no point to this. I don't even have a way to get more food when this runs out, she realized. But a part of her hated the idea of going back, and giving up. She decided to continue for a week, and then head back if things didn't work out. 


	5. Goodmorning Spidren

Please Note: many of the characters and the location belong to Tamora Pierce.  
  
Perhaps because Stella was so exhausted from the previous day she was sleeping more deeply than normal, in any case she did not hear the spriden moving through the woods. She didn't wake up until she heard the hiss of his web as it fell in some undergrowth near her head. She opened her eyes and blinked, bewildered and trying to remember where she was. After a few seconds, her groggy vision focused on the monster. A long list of improper vocabulary learned in the stable began streaking through her mind.  
  
Acting more on instinct than logic or planning she rolled to her left onto the trail. The spidren glared at her and gnashed his teeth unpleasantly. Had Stella not been terrified for her life she might have noticed his terrible dental hygiene. He sent another strand of horribly sticky web at her. It landed just an inch from her elbow. She pushed herself into a sitting position and scooted backwards a few feet. She had never been fond of spiders and was having a little trouble coping with a giant one with a human head first thing in the morning.  
  
Suddenly a voice in her head reminded her of something crucial: breathing. She thought the voice had a good point so she went ahead and took a few deep breaths as though she were about to meditate. This calmed her down somewhat. Suddenly the spidren shot another strand of nasty gray-green web at her, finally able to react she did a backward roll and scrambled to her feet. She trotted backwards a few steps, casting her mind amount desperately for Pinecone. She found him easily, just out of sight in the forest, his bewilderment and panic as noticeable as hers was.  
  
Come here she pleaded. He gave her an equine do-I-have-to.  
  
Please, please, please she begged.  
  
Pinecone really was a remarkably brave horse. He quietly and reluctantly left his hiding spot, teeth bared and eyes back, but none the less he left. He was a bit too big to move unnoticed for long, however, and his hoof snapped a twig rather loudly. The spidren turned sharply to see what had made the noise. Stella used the time to grab a large, club-like stick. Unfortunately as she raised the stick and prepared to strike the spidren with it, she ended up crashing it through some underbrush rather loudly. The spidren's gaze immediately returned to her. At this point Stella abandoned some of her panic and began to grow angry. She didn't like being controlled by a big spider, a really ugly big spider at that. He was disgusting and unnatural and she certainly was not going to let him eat her. She was filled with revulsion at the sight before her. These beasts lived in Tortall? She didn't like that idea very much. She began to run forward raising the stick to destroy this particular specimen at least. Just at that moment the spidren was gathering another strand of web to toss at her.  
  
Luckily for her, some of her anger had transferred to Pinecone. Horses don't like being eaten by monsters any more than people do. Pinecone found the whole idea rather outraging on principle. Stella's particular kind of anger quelled his instinct to run and brought out his instinct to fight. He lunged forward and applied a good kick to the spidren's back. For good measure he decided to grab one of its many limbs with his teeth, it tasted awful.  
  
Stella of course continued forwards and gave the spidren a good sharp rap on the head. He appeared to be unconscious after the first, but she gave him a few more blows just to be sure. She decided it made excellent stress relief.  
  
Then, with Stella shoving with her makeshift club, and Pinecone gingerly pulling with his teeth, the two of them managed to dump the monster into the creek. He floated swiftly away in the current. I hope he drowns, Stella thought to herself, I wouldn't want him to bother anyone downstream.  
  
"I did it," she said out loud as she saddled Pinecone. "I managed to get rid of the spidren and I didn't have anyone with me." Pinecone snorted at this. "Okay, okay" Stella amended "I had a tremendous amount from my partner Pinecone, who is the smartest horse in the world." Stella didn't feel the least bit guilty amount this since Moose was technically a pony. Stella was too queasy for breakfast but as she mounted and got ready for another day's ride, she felt much more confident than the night before. Much more sure she could handle anything that came her way, and much more able to handle anything on her own. 


	6. Lost

Stella traveled slowly that day, she was tired and she new Pinecone shouldn't be pushed too hard after going nonstop for a day. She kept the pace at a moderate walk, with a few short trots for variation. The trail grew narrower and the woods grew denser, so Stella was constantly turning in the saddle and watching for Spidren. As much as the encounter that morning had boosted her confidence she felt she had already had her daily monster quota.  
  
Around midmorning she came to a stream, there she stopped a few minutes to drink and fill her water skin, and to let Pinecone drink and rest. A few hours later she came across a very late black berry bush and decided to conserve the food in her packs by making a meal of the berries. While she was eating she had a few crazy thoughts about living off the land; nuts, mushrooms, berries and whatnot, maybe even fish. Then she shook her head, she had never had much camping experience.  
  
At sunset she stopped in a likely looking clearing, made a fire, brushed her horse, spread out her blankets and ate. Then she lay down on her side, listening to the crackling fire and Pinecone's chewing, as she fell asleep tired and satisfied.  
  
Over the next two days Stella felt more rested and picked up her pace. Other than a lack of giant monsters they were quite similar to the previous day. Stella loved them, she loved waking up in the morning and not knowing where she would sleep that night. This was what she had imagined. The weather was ideal, and Pinecone was lively.  
  
Then, on the afternoon of the third day, her food ran out. She had seen it coming but had tried to ignore it. She looked hopefully at the increased signs of civilization; maybe she could beg or wash dishes for a meal. I can get through this, she told herself, I'll be okay. Just as she completed that thought it became to rain. Stella scowled at the sky. The wind picked up and the temperature dropped. Stella humbly reached into her bag for her cloak.  
  
The afternoon got older and the sky got darker. Stella began trying to follow wagon wheel marks to a village but lost them in the mud. Then, she began to feel helpless, exposed, and vulnerable; not to mention lonely.  
  
All at once a branch cracked loudly, she jumped, suddenly startled. Pinecone spooked and ran off the trail. Stella plastered herself to his neck and duck under the branches, tugging on the reigns until he stopped. She tried to turn him around and go back but she had somehow lost the path. She frowned puzzled. She thought she heard the stream. She urged Pinecone towards the noise. They just got more lost.  
  
Lightening danced through the sky. Stella swallowed. Okay, she thought, I'm scared.  
  
Then a voice floated through the trees, "never you fret child, old Heather is here." 


	7. Old Heather

Please note: many characters and the location belong to Tamora Pierce. I would like to express my sincere apology for not updating sooner, and for the shortness of this update. I have been very busy with school and crew. I only have three exams left though, and I hope to update every couple of days throughout the month of June.  
  
Stella gasped—she had thought she was alone—and sat bolt upright in the saddle, earning herself a huge bump on the back of her head from a branch. Pinecone sensed her fear and nearly spooked again. She got him under control and turned around, looking for the source of the voice.  
  
"Sorry to have startled you deary," came the voice, " I'm just over here, to your left." Now that Stella had calmed down a little she realized it was not an unpleasant voice, it was low, and soft with a whispering reed- like quality. There was nothing threatening about it; it almost reminded her of her aunt's voice.  
  
She took a deep, steadying breath and looked to the left. There stood a small old woman in plain brown skirts, the hood of her green cloak rolled back to reveal course grey hair tied at the nape of her neck. She was tiny and thin but her face had very few lines, giving her an energetic liveliness.  
  
"I'm old Heather," she told Stella, " wicked witch, wise woman, midwife, sorceress, fairy queen, hermit, or grandmother, take your pick, I'm called all of the those things and more. But, I just call myself old Heather, that's what I like best. Now, you look a little cold, and a little hungry, and a little lost, and little tired, and a little beat up, so I'd like to take you to my hut to eat and rest a little. You'd be doing me a favor really, I'm quite lonely you no." As she said all this she calmly approached Pinecone and let him sniff her hand. He whuffled in approval, and Stella knew she could trust old Heather.  
  
"I'm called Stella," she smiled shyly at old Heather. Old Heather simply nodded and reached up a slightly withered hand to Stella. Stella grasped old Heather's hand. It was cold and bony yet vibrant with strength. Then she dismounted, awkwardly sliding her tired body to the ground, and grabbed Pinecone's reigns.  
  
Old Heather eyed what little sky their was to be seen through the branches with an experienced face. "It's going to be a good one tonight, best be on our way home." And with that she turned and motioned for Stella to follow her. With one hand she clutched her basket and with the other she turned aside branches and leave. Though there was no path Heather seemed to know where she was going.  
  
Suddenly Old Heather stopped and bent over. "Ah, Rosemary," she said, more to herself than to Stella. "And a fine big plant at that." Then her deft little hands reached out and she gathered several bunches of the herb. Placing these in her basket she again beckoned for Stella to follow.  
  
Ten minutes or so later they reached a tiny clearing. "Home," Heather said shortly, and she marched directly towards a small hut in one corner. Upon reaching the door she stopped and looked back at Pinecone, brow furrowed slightly in thought. "You can leave your horse there," she gestured to one side of the hut, "with the branches overhead it's almost dry, and I'm afraid I don't have room for him inside." Stella nodded and directed Pinecone into the area. While she removed his saddle she convinced him that he mustn't leave the clearing that night. When she was done she picked up her saddle bags and walked towards the door, where Heather was standing. Old Heather's eyes flickered from her to Pinecone and then she nodded to herself as if in approval. That unnerved Stella, very few people could recognize wild magic, no one without some sort of magic could possibly detect it. Who is she, Stella wondered belatedly to herself.  
  
"Come in child," old Heather said as she unlocked the door. Reluctantly Stella entered the hut. It seemed bigger on the inside then it had on the outside. To the left of the door was a bed with a bright and cozy looking quilt on it. Just across from the door was a small fire, with a kettle a fragrant stew simmering above it. Above the fire were tied bundles of root vegetables and herbs. To the left of the fire was a small rather crooked table, with a lopsided stool next to it. Strangest of all was the far corner, behind the bed: the hut had been built with a tree in that corner as part of the foundation. Old Heather walked swiftly to this corner and hung her basket on one of the branches. 


	8. Stories and Storms

First off I would like to apologize to anyone who has actually been following this for the long break. I assure you it was not intended. There are several computers I would like to kill but can't for insurance reasons. I would also like to say that I'm sorry for the shortness and dullness of this chapter. It does tell you a little more about Old Heather though and more action is on the way. I'm going to try to get up and running regularly now. If you're reading this then you know this already, but the setting and many of the characters belong to Tamora Pierce.-  
  
Thank you,  
  
Raincloud  
  
"Here, come in and take your cloak off," Heather urged her, "you can hang it on one of the branches." She had already removed her own cloak and was now bustling about her home preparing dinner. She threw some more herbs and a few extra dried carrots into the stew. Then she set some water to boiling. Next she hurried to the right corner and checked on the hen nestled in the corner, Stella blinked she hadn't even noticed it before.  
  
It seemed only a moment after she had hung up her cloak and seated herself at the small table that Old Heather shoved a mug of fragrant tea into her hands. She blew on it to cool it and then tasted it; mint and honey and something else, something warm and soothing. She sighed, basking in the coziness and security of Old Heather's home, and stared at nothing in particular, feeling warm and stupefied.  
  
Old Heather meanwhile set the table with butter, honey, bread, and cheese and served up two bowls of stew. Her movements were brisk and lively, as though she suffered none of the usual stiffness of limbs that preyed upon people her age. Despite her gray hair, she did not seem to be much older than Stella. And, at the same time, she was ancient, she had witnessed countless years, countless kings, countless wars, and countless joys-she remembered each one.  
  
"Now," she said, as she joined Stella at the table, "I've welcomed many a wanderer into my house and I've learned to judge by looks which ones have interesting tales and which have boring." Heather took a spoonful of vegetable stew. "It's all in the eyes you know, all in the eyes," she said, not to Stella but to herself. "And you," she continued "look as if you have quite the story to tell. I want to hear the whole thing, don't leave anything out"  
  
  
  
Stella blushed. "You don't want to here my story, Old Heather, I'm just a stupid runaway who's made a lot of stupid mistakes." She stared ashamedly down at her stew. "I mean really stupid mistakes." "Well, you had me fooled; I thought you were an intelligent runaway who had had a little bad luck." Heather paused. "Even if you are just a stupid runaway I still want to hear you're story. Do you have any idea how many stories I've heard over the years, each one different and yet all so similar. I've heard just about everything imaginable, so you have almost a guarantee that someone somewhere along the line has done something more stupid than you." Old Heather cut herself a slice of bread and buttered it. "Now begin," she commanded, and Stella did.  
  
It actually didn't take long, though midway through she realized she was ravenously hungry and stopped storytelling as she concentrated on eating. Whatever else she was, Old Heather was an excellent cook-probably because she had had years and years of practice. After telling Old Heather she felt better, and she still felt stupid, but less so.  
  
"I don't think you're stupid, young and thoughtless perhaps but not stupid. You've just acted on impulse, and somehow I don't think you actually regret it."  
  
Stella thought a moment. "No, you're right," she said, "I don't regret it. I wish I had been a bit more careful, but even if I could just pick up where I left off at the stables tomorrow I wouldn't do it."  
  
Old Heather narrowed her eyes and stared shrewdly at Stella for a few long minutes. "Your story," she told Stella matter-of-factly, "has only just begun. Still, I want to help you." She threw her eyes toward the ceiling and sighed with what seemed to be exasperation; Stella sensed that it was not directed towards her. "I know it against the rules for me to interfere that way, but rules were meant to be broken." She cackled gleefully, like a young child with her hand into a jar of sweets. Stella looked at her with a puzzled expression on her face, but Old Heather seemed to choose not to notice. "I like you," she said to Stella. "I want to help you, please stay with me a few days. I'll teach you some tricks to living in the woods, and you can keep me company. And then I can give you all the supplies you can carry when you leave." Stella smiled, there was something captivating about Old Heather, something joyful and mysterious that made her want to stay near her, even if only for a few days. Besides, Stella needed all the help she could get.  
  
A few minutes later she yawned, and Old Heather forced her into bed and tucked her under the quilts as if she were very young, refusing all her offers of assistance with the dishes. Listening to the rain outside and Old Heather's movements, and the fires crackling inside made Stella feel very tired, very safe, and very sleepy. She fell asleep almost instantly.  
  
Stella sleepy deeply and woke only once during the night. She wondered where Old Heather was and looked around the gloom of the hut but did not see her. She turned around and spotted a small crack the wood boards of the wall behind her. Peering through it she saw the figure of Old Heather, illuminated by both moonlight and lightning, dancing round and round the clearing. 


	9. Destiny and Disguise

Finally, I've been meaning to write this for a week. Homework should be made illegal. Thank you all for reviewing, I really appreciate it. I think this chapter is a bit more exciting than the last one; I meant to combine them but in the interests of updating sooner I decided to separate them. Of course, the setting and some of the characters belong to Tamora Pierce.  
  
When Stella woke in the morning, Old Heather was bustling around the house preparing breakfast. Stella wondered if she had slept at all, or if she even needed to sleep. She told Stella to take care of Pinecone and then come in for breakfast.  
  
Stella found that Pinecone was completely at peace in the clearly, unperturbed by the strange events of the previous night. And, oddly, Stella realized she wasn't bothered either. While she would have been alarmed by anyone else dancing around under the moon it seemed a perfectly natural thing for Old Heather to have done. There was something different about her, but familiar and reassuring at the same time.  
  
There were scrambled eggs for breakfast, courtesy of the hen in the corner. There was warmed bread too; Stella wondered how Old Heather had come by it. When she asked Old Heather she received a cryptic reply, "Oh, people come you know, and they leave things for me. It's all in the rules you know."  
  
"What rules?" Stella asked.  
  
Old Heather thought for a minute or two before answering. "The rules. There are all sorts of rules for me-though they know I'm breaking them for you-because I'm an exception to so many of the rules for everybody else."  
  
Stella was still very confused, "How are you breaking the rules for me?"  
  
"I'm altering things, helping you. In your case that's against the rules for me, but I'm doing it anyway." A sharp whistling wind suddenly shrieked around the hut. Stella jumped and she heard Pinecone neigh and stamp his foot. But Old Heather merely cackled and said, "Well, I think I should be allowed to interfere in destiny once every few hundred years. You have me listen to stories but I almost never get to help create them."  
  
While Stella learned a great deal in the days she stayed with Old Heather-which herbs were good for which ailment, how to change the color of her hair with dyes made from nuts, the best way to build a campfire, how to pass unnoticed through the forest-she never learned any more about the rules in part because she was afraid to ask about them (the sound of the word destiny had given her goose bumps) and because she knew Old Heather wouldn't give her a straight answer anyway.  
  
  
  
~~ On the morning of Stella's departure Old Heather helped her pack her saddle bags to bulging with useful supplies. She and Stella walked Pinecone a ways closer to the road before saying farewell. As Stella mounted, a wind gusted by knocking leaves from the tree above her onto the forest floor. Old Heather gasped and suddenly reached into her the basket she always carried with her. "So, they were more receptive than I had expected", she murmured. Then she handed Stella a small sack, heavy with coins. Stella tried to refuse it but Heather insisted. "Just come back and tell me the rest of your story when its over; it should be an interesting one." Stella nodded and urged Pinecone to a walk. When she looked back a few moments later Old Heather had disappeared. Stella shuddered, I wonder how she defines interesting, she thought.  
  
~~ Later that day, Stella was riding alongside the woods, and just beginning to consider looking for a place to camp for the night when she spotted a huge group on horseback in the distance. Not wanting to take any chances, she turned right onto a road that led into the woods, there she waited to see who was in the group. She was terrified when she realized that the horseback riders were a troop of the King's Own. She had a horrible feeling that they would turn onto the road she had hidden on. And what if one of them recognized her or Pinecone? Worse yet, what if they had been told to be on the lookout for her? She was paralyzed by uncertainty and fear. Pinecone whuffled, Stella took a deep breathe. She dismounted and rubbed mud in Pinecone's coat just in case, though she hated to think of getting it out later. Look tired, she though to him. Next, she pulled a cloak over her head and lowered her eyes. When she felt ready she turned back out onto the road. She realized she probably didn't have to worry. The only notice any of they took of her was to wish her good afternoon. 


	10. Capture

Two in a week, I think it's a personal record. I tried to make this chapter longer and a bit more exciting. The location and some of the characters belong to Tamora Pierce. Enjoy!  
  
Stella had just finished grooming Pinecone for the night when she felt the knife against her neck. She looked down (very carefully) and saw-as she had surmised-that the knife had a hand attached to it, and the hand was attached to an arm. There was a large body right behind her, probably male.  
  
Pinecone started sideways towards Stella and her opponent. Stella tried to turn her neck and get her hands up to push the knife away while she stepped down hard on where she thought the mans foot was. She missed his foot but she managed to get the knife a few inches off her neck. Stella kicked backwards sharply-this time she hit his shin, making him gasp. She kicked again, harder, all the while pushing at the knife. Finally, she managed to whirl around and thrust him away.  
  
She darted around Pinecone and flung herself to the ground grasping for a stick. She found a large heavy stick and held it up to fend the man off with. He was huge, a good foot taller than Stella, not to mention about three times as wide. He had pale skin and dark, curly hair and beard. He was closing in on her with the dagger so she swung at him with her stick. He ducked. Meanwhile, Pinecone had gotten himself situated behind the man. Pinecone gave him a walloping kick in the rear. He turned slashing at Pinecone with the dagger; Stella struck him on the shoulder with her stick.  
  
Despite his size, Pinecone and Stella could have disposed of him in just a few minutes. Unfortunately, he chose this moment to call reinforcements.  
  
"Burly, Swift, Ugly, One-Eye get over here. I've got a disagreeable captive here." They had been nearby all along, they were there nearly instantaneously.  
  
The one who must have been named One-Eye laughed and called out, "It's a girl, Big can't even catch a little girl; must be getting old." But, in the end, none of them were laughing. It took all five of them to tie up a defiant Stella and catch an angry Pinecone. Stella fought hard. She had barely had time to notice that Burly, Swift, and Ugly, were, well, burly, swift, and ugly respectively as they came at her; and to wonder why bandits couldn't come up with more original names before they came at her. She swung her stick at them and Pinecone kicked, but inevitably they tore the stick away from her. She still fought as they tried to tie her up, kicking, squirming, biting, scratching, and screaming words her aunt would never have approved of at them.  
  
Stella was terrible outnumbered, and in the end she found herself hobbling along the round behind them, and being jerked forwards by the robe if she wasn't moving fast enough for their taste. Pinecone was being dragged along by Big, who had a huge bruise on his head.  
  
"Tough little thing," said Ugly, who was rendered even uglier than usual by a black eye.  
  
"Scrawny though," said Burly, who couldn't seem to walk straight.  
  
"I dunno, kinda pretty if you aren't too particular," said One-Eye- who wasn't too particular-as he eyed her speculatively.  
  
"Don't even think about it," cut in Big. "The boss'd roast you alive."  
  
They were all quiet after that, which left Stella with ominous feelings about "The Boss". She began trying to consult with Pinecone about escaping, being abducting by outlaws hadn't been part of her original plan, not to mention they were going in the wrong direction. Pinecone was all for escaping but didn't want to leave without Stella. Stella didn't think that she had any chance of getting free-Ugly had a good grip on her rope and there was no way she could free her hands.  
  
All too soon they arrived at the bandit's base camp. Stella discovered that "The Boss" was female-a fact for which she was grateful, as she assumed it had prevented the bandits from raping her. Their "Boss", leader really, was tiny. She was shorter than Stella, and wiry. She didn't look fragile though, she had a certain ruthless aura about her that kept people from thinking of her that way. The 20 or so bandits under her command absolutely worshipped her; probably because they were very afraid of her. She was not only ruthless, but fair too in an odd way, and she had her principles.  
  
"What's this?," she asked, her voice was crisp and cold. Stella felt herself shiver; the woman's voice was the voice of a person capable of murder.  
  
"Just a runaway, probly a minor noble," Big said. "Might be worth a bit in ransom, at least the horse is good stock." Stella realized they had made a huge mistake, but she wasn't sure if it was to her advantage or not. What would they do to her when they discovered she was a commoner? 


	11. The Bandit Camp

I hope you found the last chapter a bit more exciting, Stella found it a bit stressful. I know there is a problem with the spacing in some chapters, I'm trying to fix it now. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, your comments really make my day. Of course, the location and some of the characters belong to Tamora Pierce.  
  
"Whose daughter are you?" asked the bandit leader. Stella tried to stare at nothing in particular and ignore her. This didn't work. She received a sharp kick to the kneecap from a booted foot.  
  
"Who are you?" The Boss yelled this time. Interesting, Stella thought, powerful, but not much self-control. This time she was punched in the stomach. Stella decided that trying to ignore her wasn't working.  
  
"I am Stella Groomsman." The leader narrowed her eyes.  
  
"No noble's daughter then. How did you come by that horse?" The leader glared up at her, although Stella felt as if she were being glared down at. "Surely such a fine animal would be too expensive for the likes of you."  
  
Stella faltered. Obviously this woman knew something about horses, enough to see through the dirt all over Pinecone. Did she know enough to tell where Pinecone came from? or enough to recognize Stella's last name?  
  
"He doesn't belong to me; I'm just taking care of him." The words were true.  
  
"Ah, there's something you don't see everyday, a horse thief with scruples about lying." The leader had a haughty tone now, as though proud to tell the world that she had no scruples about anything. "But scruples are easily cured with a little persuasion." The leader looked Stella up and down for a few long minutes. "Will you join us?" she asked Stella suddenly, "are last horse thief was killed in a most inconvenient accident." The way she said it told Stella that, from her point of view at least, the accident had been most convenient.  
  
"Never," Stella said vehemently. All right, she thought to herself, I did borrow Pinecone without asking, but that was different I know Pinecone and he wanted to come; I'm no horse thief.  
  
"May we dispose of her as we wish then?" asked Ugly eagerly.  
  
"No, you may not," Boss snarled. "I will need time to decide what I wish to do with her, just because she doesn't wish to be a horse thief doesn't mean that she won't be one.  
  
And, Stella thought, I just might become a horse thief after all. She was eyeing the poorly cared for and unhappy bandits' mounts. Hello, she greeted them.  
  
Meanwhile the bandit queen went on giving orders. "Silent and Soundless," she called to two twins, "fix dinner."  
  
"Big and Ugly see to the horses, and put her horse somewhere!" But Pinecone refused to go more than a few paces from Stella, and in the end they hobbled him and allowed him to follow her.  
  
"Agile tie her up somewhere," she spoke to a tall and lean girl of about 17, or so. "Its your duty to watch her; make sure no one else comes near her." Agile swept up to Stella, grabbed her rope, and led her to a tree at the edge of the bandit camp. Pinecone came over and stood next to her. Anyone who tried to move him or remove his saddle bags-which the bandits had thrown back over him haphazardly-was given a kick that left them cursing and bruised; not many people tried.  
  
  
  
~~  
  
The bandits were bit rowdy that night, apparently they had stolen a barrel of ale from a trade wagon that day and were in a hurry to drink it up because it was difficult to transport. All of the bandits sang and laughed drunkenly as they ate stew and dried meat and drunk ale, all except for Fury and Agile. Fury must have been Agile's brother; they looked almost exactly alike, and they were only about two years apart in age. Fury was about two years younger than Agile. They both had facial features that resembled the Boss. Stella wondered if they were related to her; certainly, they couldn't be her children-the bandit queen was young and not at all the motherly type.  
  
It grew dark quickly and a cold wind picked up, a reminder that winter was on the way. Stella felt terribly homesick. All she wanted was to be safe and warm with her father and brother, drinking a nice warm mug of spiced cider. Instead, she was freezing and growing stiff and uncomfortable, tied to a tree and watching bandits eat dinner while they didn't feed her anything. Her hunger was painful and pinching, she hadn't eaten much all day and now she felt light-headed and noxious. The bandits' faces looked evil and ghoulish by the light of the fire.  
  
Suddenly, the leader jumped to her feet, crying, "Bring me the horse; I want to ride it." Stella glared at her defiantly but it was too dark for anyone to see. Feeling her outrage, Pinecone rose up onto his hind legs and whistled wildly. Big and Burly nervously approached Pinecone. He came down and backed towards Stella. Stella got an idea, Throw her off, she told him, break something if you can. Big lunged forwards and grabbed Pinecone's bridle; he unhobbled Pinecone as fast as he could. One-Eye held him still while the bandit queen mounted. They were all too drunk to wonder why Pinecone had suddenly started to cooperate. Stella grinned evilly. (Author's note: perhaps now is a good time for me to establish that Pinecone is distantly related to Peachblossom.)  
  
Stella and Pinecone channeled their rage at the bandit queen. They hated her; they were not meant to be captured but to be free. They hated her; they would tear her to bits, they would kill her. Pinecone lurched and careened around in circles. He bucked and kicked out. He leaped and ran tight circles. The leader wouldn't have had a chance even if she had been sober, although if she had been sober she wouldn't have attempted to ride Pinecone in the first place. She was thrown into a tree trunk, a very solid tree trunk. Pinecone ran back to Stella and grabbed a clump of her hair in his teeth. The bandit queen didn't stir for a minute, and Stella had a few misgivings about what would happen to her if the leader was dead.  
  
She needn't have worried. The leader sat up, groaned, and diligently work cursing Pinecone, Stella, their common ancestry-which Stella took as a compliment of sorts-and the tree she had crashed into. She was creative, Stella had to give her that much. She had broken her leg. She yelled at the bandits to bring her over to the fire. Big carried her much the same way that kindly inclined children carry kittens, concernedly but not carefully. She slapped him as he set her down.  
  
Then, she sent everyone except for Fury, Agile, Silent, and Soundless to kidnap the nearest healer and bring him to camp. They were a bit reluctant to do this, the mage they had tried to capture the day before had been babbling hysterically about power and darkness, then the sky had gone black for a minute, and the bandits were superstitious. Stella couldn't believe her luck, she began searching for a sharp root or something to free her hands with. Agile made the leader an herbal tea for pain relief which seemed to make her sleepy. Even better, thought Stella. Agile and Fury had the first watch so Soundless and Silent banked the fire and curled beneath their blankets to get some sleep. Agile seated herself on a tree stump near Stella to guard her. Fury walked about the camp putting things in order. Then he walked to towards Agile. He held a whispered conversation with Agile, she nodded to him. He kept walking towards Stella. The moonlight glinted of something metal in his hand. It looked like a knife.  
  
~~ Poor Stella, I always end up leaving her in suspenseful situations. Her nerves must be shot by now. Don't worry though, I can't kill her off yet, she still has to save Tortall. 


	12. Help in the Dark

Ah, chapter 12, and I have another predicament to get Stella out of. The location and some characters belong to Tamora Pierce. The plot and the rest of the characters come from within the eclectic experiences and imaginings that make of the labyrinth (oh, history concept, eh Sethos) of my mind-not that I suffer from insanity, I enjoy every minute of it. She gritted her teeth and pressed her body back into the tree as he approached. Fury walked slowly in a meandering sort of way. Stella glared warily at him. He stopped just in front of her and reached for her shoulder. Pinecone was instantly at her side  
  
"Don't touch me," Stella growled. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Agile get up off her tree stump and head to the campfire.  
  
"All right," Fury said nonchalantly, stepping back on Pinecone. "I won't touch you. Of course, it will be difficult for you to eat the stew I brought you if you won't let me free you. I suppose I could spoon feed you the soup, but you probably won't want me to do that either." This wasn't what Stella had expected, her jaw dropped in shock. Fury spooned some stew into her mouth. It was slightly cold and not particularly pleasantly flavored to begin with but Stella was far too hungry to care. Her stomach growled.  
  
"More, please," she whispered. Fury spooned the bowl into her mouth, being ridiculously careful not to touch her. Stella ate greedily and wondered at her luck. Pinecone backed away as he realized she wouldn't come to harm.  
  
Just as she finished off the bowl, Agile came up to them holding a small jar in her hands. "All sound asleep," she announced quietly. "Haven't you freed her yet?" she asked Fury.  
  
"No, she didn't want me to touch her, not that I blame her." Fury replied. He handed Agile the knife-small dagger really-and she went to work cutting the ropes that held Stella to the tree.  
  
"I don't understand," Stella said. "You're setting me free?" She was puzzled.  
  
"Why else would we be untying you?"  
  
"But why? Aren't you supposed to be bloodthirsty bandits?"  
  
"Well, yes, and actually we will be chasing after you about 15 minutes after you leave." Agile told her.  
  
"What's the point of letting me go then?" Stella sunk down onto her knees as she was cut free."  
  
"Were running away from our aunt, the leader, your our alibi-we aren't planning to catch you again-besides, we don't think you are a horse thief, you just have a way with 'em" said Fury.  
  
"Here, let me put this on you cuts and scrapes and bruises," Agile said holding out a jar of salve. Stella nodded weakly. "We do have a favor to ask you actually, we want you to 'steal' the horses the band picked up three days ago."  
  
"Can't I just send them home?"  
  
Agile and Fury gave her confused expressions.  
  
"They were taken from a wealthy farmer, who kept them warm and well fed. They want to return to them, they will if I encourage them." Stella felt fairly sure of it.  
  
"Do it now then," Agile told her. "I'll go untie them." And she slid away into the darkness.  
  
"Help me up, please." Stella didn't feel able to stand, but she had to get over to Pinecone.  
  
"I'll have to touch you, I'm no mage."  
  
"Are you called Fury because she can be infuriatingly annoying sometimes?" Stella asked him.  
  
"That's about right," he said as he pulled her up. "My aunt finds me particularly difficult to deal with." He hoisted Stella up onto Pinecone and stood back to let her work her magic.  
  
Home, she pictured for them, she used simple ideas because she didn't know them well, oats, warmth, safety, companionship. Go home! And slowly, in single file they trotted back home, at that moment Stella felt like doing the same.  
  
"Here," Fury uncurled her fingers and put the handle of the knife into her hand. "Good luck and Goddess bless," he told her.  
  
"Thank you," Stella whispered back. "You too." Then she turned, clutching the knife she hoped she wouldn't need, and rode of into the night.  
  
I have decided I want to put a quote at the end of every chapter. I like quotes, they are my alternative to caffeine. The quotes won't have anything to do with the chapter-you aren't expecting me to be that organized are you? Anyway here is the first:  
  
"Only lovers and deadly enemies look directly into one another's eyes."-Elizabeth Peters, The Ape Who Guards the Balance. Thank you for reading and please, please, please review! 


	13. Onwards

I hope you like the last episode. This one is a little shorter, I was a little shorter on time. Fall sports only last about a month longer though, and I am incapable of doing any of the offered winter sports. Of course, the setting and some of the characters belong to Tamora Pierce, may she write many more books set in Tortall.  
  
Stella looked back only once; she saw Agile and Fury watching after her; their figures were vague and distant in the gloom. She rode at a walk in the beginning; she had no misconceptions about what would happen to her-and Fury and Agile-if the bandits woke up. When Pinecone had gone far enough down the path that they were out of hearing distance she paused.  
  
Maybe, she thought, maybe, I should go home, I'm liable to get myself hurt. She thought this and it made since, but somehow she couldn't move to turn Pinecone towards home. A part of her wanted to keep going, wanted to see the world and live her own life. And, more than that, she felt compelled to keep going. It was as if someone had a grip on her and wanted to drag her off in that direction. In any case, there were lots of bandits between her and home. So, pretending to herself that she was only avoiding the bandits, Stella continued on in the direction she had been going.  
  
She passed the place were, a few hours ago, she had been planning to make camp. She couldn't stop then though, she had to keep riding. She set Pinecone at a slow steady canter and his hoof-beats sung to her all night; keep going, keep going, keep going. So, she kept going and going and going. (Authors note: Stella is not related to the Energizer Bunny.)  
  
She had never felt so strongly connected to Pinecone. He kept running because she kept riding, and she kept riding because he kept running. Their will flowed forwards ahead of them. Stella was free, free to ride onwards, even if she wasn't exactly sure where she wanted to go.  
  
~~  
  
By mid-morning Stella exhausted. She was slumped forward in the saddle, day-dreaming about her bed. Pinecone was drooping over, dreaming about an endless mountain of carrots. A little while after Stella started envisioning a pillow made of carrots, she slid of Pinecone's side and fell asleep.  
  
Pinecone stopped and woke up. Snorting at her in exasperation, he grabbed the shoulder of her cloak in his teeth and dragged onto some moss a little ways off the path. He even bunched up some of her cloak under her head as a pillow. Then, he chomped at his bit, and glared back at his saddle. Sighing resolutely with his martyrdom he walked over to the stream.  
  
~~  
  
"Wake up," said a shrill, piping voice into Stella ear. "I'm hungry." The voice sounded as though its hunger where the equal to immediate war.  
  
"Go away," Stella murmured. Then she felt the knife against her back.  
  
"And that concludes this week's episode." Now for the quote:  
  
"Good luck you can never know until the last minute." - Solomon The Price Arthur Miller Please, if you a reading this, review. I think that when this is published I will have more chapters than reviews which would be incredibly pathetic. 


	14. Another Runaway

A two updates in two days, I hope you feel privileged. I feel privileged to be able to do more than homework and running on a Monday night; eating and sleeping are great. I don't know how long this story will be, but I guess it will be over my original plan of 15 chapters; the chapters are shorter than I had planned. Please review; if you don't I might just put Stella at a cliff-hanger and leave her there for all eternity. Of course, the location and some of the characters belong to Tamora Piece, may she write many more books set in Tortall.  
  
Stella was suddenly wide awake; it's amazing what dangerous sharp objects will do. She scrambled away from the knife point and stood up to look at her assailant. He was a short and plump little boy, about six or seven years old, with pale brown hair and lightly tanned skin. She gasped with relief; she didn't think he could hurt her. In fact, the knife he held in his hand was the same one that Fury had slipped into her hand the night before.  
  
"Who are you?" she asked. He was well dressed; he certainly wasn't a beggar or a woodsman's child.  
  
"I am Lord Lucas of Lakefront," he told her in a supercilious tone, as though Stella ought to be bowing down at the very site of him. "And now, I think I shall deign to inquire who you might be," he appeared to think Stella was some sort of garden slug.  
  
Stella glared at him; she had never cared for disdainful nobles-she had learned to judge at an early age which people were likely to yell at her and slap her, and which were likely to remember her name and toss her a sweet. Lord Lucas looked like the offspring of the yelling and slapping variety. "I am Stella Groomsman," she said in a tone that matched his haughtiness exactly. "And now, I think I shall deign to inquire what you might be doing here." Well, thought Stella, what does he expect after waking me up the way he did.  
  
"I am getting my parents to better appreciate me by running away from home. I'm going to hire you as a guide." Stella resisted the urge to spank him-it was incredibly difficult.  
  
"You are, are you?" Stella didn't want to be employed to a spoiled brat who was only half her age.  
  
"Yes, I am." He had to be one of those kids who had never been told no in his life, there was no question in his mind. "You can start by caring for my mount whilst I refresh myself. You should have some expertise in that line of work at least, even if you are probably a terrible valet. It's a shame I couldn't get some proper service to run off with me." He sighed as though burdened with running the universe.  
  
Stella felt his horse walk up behind her then. She was a tolerant and patient seeming mare. Dapple grey and about nine years old, she looked as though Locus wasn't the first spoiled brat she had toted around for no thanks. Hello dear, she said to Stella. Her saddle was still on her from the night before, she was coated in sweat and grime, she looked absolutely exhausted, and Stella could tell she was terribly thirsty.  
  
Stella took a deep breath, preparing to start in on a lecture in proper horse care when Pinecone trotted up-looking just as disheveled as Lucus's horse. He gave a horse cough, you were saying?  
  
"Right," Stella said. "Look, Lord Lucas, my horse is a mess too. So am I. So are you. You have to take care of yourself if you are going to run away. You have to be independent. And, you have to take care of Mouse here. If you don't know how, I'll show you, but you have to do the work yourself, I have other things to do." I just can't think of them right now, she told herself.  
  
She began to show him how to untack a horse. Midway though, he began to actually help her.  
  
"It is interesting," he said in a condescending tone, "to get a new perspective on life by performing the menial chores of life often done by servants." The only thing that saved him from being pounded into the ground right then was that Stella didn't want to end up tried for the murder of a noble. "You are hired. You do all right, and you know a few useful things."  
  
"No, no, no, no. I resign. Your parents will be looking for you; if I'm found near you I'll probably be accused of kidnap which on top of horse- theft could land me in prison for a really long time." Not to mention that the idea of spending more than a few more minutes in the company of Lord Lucas was enough to make her stomach drop out.  
  
"Oh, so you're the one." Lucas smiled smugly.  
  
"Which one?" Stella panicked.  
  
"The stable girl that's run of with one of the kings horse; Father said she might be near our land. People were talking about it until the . Anyways, if you don't come with me, I'll run back home and send all the guards after you. Mama would be ever so proud if I caught a thief."  
  
Stella let out a string of words "Mama" probably wouldn't have wanted her baby hearing and glared at him. "All right," she growled, "I'll come with you." She didn't want to be turned in as a horse thief. What choice did she have?  
  
  
  
Quote time: "We came to this town with long hair. We stand now with haircuts. This guy is going to get it bad." -Sulia Serafine, I think this quote is from A Life Less Ordinary 


	15. Going Further

I'm sorry to have two slow chapters in a row, but real life has its boring moments too. I'll try to put some action in the next chapter. Of course, the location and some of the characters belong to Tamora Pierce, may she write many more books set in Tortall.  
  
Stella took a deep breathe and began her new career as guide, governess, and groom for Lord Locus of Lakefront. She was so tired. It had taken a lot out of her to be traveling all the time, and then there had been the fight with the bandits. She still had bruises all over and she was moving slowly that day.  
  
"Let's take care of these horses, then we'll get ourselves something to eat and talk some." Lord Lucas scowled at her after those words but did not object. Stella thought that he look tired too. Stella made sure he led Mouse to the creek. She dragged their saddlebags over to a nearby log and began rummaging through Lord Lucas's.  
  
"Hey, those are mine." Lord Lucas came back to see Stella cramming one of his cakes into her mouth.  
  
"You have to pay me and I don't think you have money. You certainly can't provide a place for me to stay. So, you're going to pay me by letting me have some of your food and helping me stay in disguise." The cake was a bit stale; Stella wondered how long he had been away from home. Would his parents be looking for him yet? What if they found him?  
  
~~  
  
"Eat the apple, its good for you."  
  
"It tastes awful."  
  
"Eat it."  
  
"No. I won't!"  
  
Stella wondered how the poor soul who had been in charge of him last had been able to get him to eat his vegetables. She strongly suspected that they hadn't even attempted to make him do anything that he didn't want. He wasn't stubborn he was just used to having his own way. Stella was very stubborn, and not used to just rolling over to let other people have their way. In the end, Lucas ate about two thirds of his apple and gave the rest to Mouse at Stella's insistence.  
  
Stella had already decided that she much preferred Mouse to Lord Lucas. Mouse wasn't stupid she was just patient. She also new that as far as life went, carting around a few spoiled kids was easier than working in mines or serving as the mount for a Rider. Mouse had even met Daine once; the Wildmage had visited Lakefront a year or so ago. Mouse in turned liked Stella for making sure she was cared for and for trying to put Lord Lucas in his place.  
  
Stella sighed; she was absolutely exhausted. They had ridden until it got to dark to see after Stella had discovered that Lord Lucas's estate was only a few miles away; she hadn't wanted to found. She would rather have just left Lord Lucas and rode on. Put she couldn't have moved quickly enough to avoid capture if he had followed through with his threat to tell the guards she was in the area. She didn't really won't to help Lord Lucas run away, but then she wasn't exactly in a position to scold him for it because she had run away herself.  
  
"Bedtime," she told Lord Lucas.  
  
Rather predictably, he told her he wasn't tired.  
  
"Look, we have a long ride ahead of us tomorrow. If you're too tired to keep up with me, I'll leave you behind." Stella wanted to leave him behind now but she was worried they might still be too close to his land.  
  
"You may bring me my nightclothes," he said, glaring at her. Stella stamped her foot and bobbed her head like a frustrated horse. She grabbed the nightclothes out of his saddle bag and threw them at him. She stalked of to relieve her bladder. When she returned she banked the fire and curled up on top of her cloak with a blanket from Old Heather over her.  
  
"Stella?" It was Lord Lucas, his voice no longer sounded imperious and arrogant but plaintive and unsure. "I can't sleep."  
  
Stella realized she couldn't either. She got up and walked closer to Lord Lucas.  
  
"I'll warn you, I'm a terrible singer. But I'll do my best to sing you a lullaby." Stella took a moment to try to remember the words. Her mother had sung this song to her years ago, and her aunt sometimes hummed it while she worked.  
  
"All of the horses are safe in the herd, hush, hush and don't speak a word. All of the horses are settled for the night, each with enough grain for his heart's delight."  
  
Stella felt tears of homesickness coursing down her cheeks in the darkness, but she felt better somehow. After a few verse Lord Lucas began snoring. And a minute later, Stella was lulled to sleep by the gentle eating noises of Pinecone and Mouse.  
  
  
  
At least this ending isn't a cliffhanger. Please review, I love reviews.  
  
Quote: "A friend is one who dislikes the same people you dislike."- Anonymous 


	16. Of Mouse and the Man

I'm so sorry for the long wait between chapters. At least this chapter is a little longer and has some action. Once again, the location and some of the characters belong to Tamora Pierce, long may she live and write.  
  
A few nights later Stella and Lord Lucas were passing through small village near nightfall. Stella spotted and inn, and, after a moment's consideration of her wish for a bath and the coins in her pocket, she nudged Pinecone towards it. Despite the fact that there was something uneasy, something wrong and anxious about all the people in the village, she didn't really want to leave it. At the palace there had always been people about and she had been feeling isolated and lonely seeing only a few people-one of them being Lord Lucas-each day.  
  
Lord Lucas took one look at the inn and began making rude remarks about "inferior accommodations". Stella kindly offered to let him share a stall with Pinecone or Mouse. For whatever reason, this offer was not well received; his reaction could have been worse however-Stella was beginning to believe that there might be a semi-decent human being buried-very, very, very, deeply-under all his layers of arrogance. Some small part of him seemed to appreciate the fact that there would be less work tonight.  
  
She decided to care for the mounts herself just in case there was a description of Pinecone floating about. Then she tipped the stable boy what she hoped was enough to keep him from wondering why a teenage girl and a well-dressed little boy were traveling alone together, but hopefully not enough to make him question where her money came from. She noticed that a short, plump and brown-haired man appeared to be watching her and she hurried Lord Lucas into the dining room.  
  
After arranging for a small room for the night with the innkeeper Stella treated Lord Lucas to a hot meal. There was roast chicken and cooked carrots (Stella's superior will power won out, and Lord Lucas had to eat his) and boiled potatoes. For dessert there were baked apples with cream. Stella found it wonderfully relaxing simply to sit and wait for the food to come to her, rather than having to worry about setting up a campsite and cooking and cleaning up. She slumped back in her chair and stared with childlike tiredness at the candle-lit room around her. There was, however, a tension in the room as there had been in the village. It was hard to place, almost intangible, but it manifested itself in tiny human details. Children of seven or eight, who should have been well past clinging to their mothers, were seated in parents' laps, more husbands had their arms around their wives, and there was urgent whispering between acquaintances. There laughter was a hair forced and nervous. And there were murmurings, mutterings about darkness, magic, mages, sorcery, and fear.  
  
Her eyes happened to fall on the brown -haired man; he was watching her again, looking her up and down and eyeing her money sack. His eyes were shifty, his appearance untrustworthy. Her one consolation about this was that he probably wasn't employed by the King's Own. He looked more like a highwayman or robber.  
  
"Come on," she hissed sharply to Lucas. "Let's go to our room." She hastily slammed a few coins onto the tables and then tugged him towards the stairs. He sensed her urgency and for once didn't argue. There was something that really frightened her about that stranger.  
  
Once they had located and opened their room, a clean and well ordered place, Stella rung for the maid. She was red-headed and plump, with laughing eyes and perfectly shaped ears. She brought up hot water and soap for a bath in moments and didn't give voice to the questions that Stella could see in her gaze. Surprisingly, Lord Lucas plunged right into his bath without the long argument which Stella had been prepared. He only put in a reasonable request that she turn her back. Stella gathered from this that, allow he didn't like to eat vegetables, he did like to be clean, which was something. She put him into bed behind a screen and took her own bath, the warm water relaxing both muscles and mind.  
  
The maid reappeared and offered to clean her clothes. Stella gratefully thrust a piles of dirty garments into her basket.  
  
"By the way," the girl hissed in her ear as Stella leaned close, "there's a man downstairs asking questions about you. Thought you would like to know."  
  
"Thank you! But why are you telling be."  
  
The maid gave her a long look. "I know it be wrong to judge a book by its cover, but he looks more likely to run off without paying than you do." Then she turned quickly and left the room without another word.  
  
A feeling of unease rose again within Stella and she quickly checked to see that all their belongings were gathered up so that they would be easy to grab in a hurry. She checked on Lord Lucas. He was sleeping soundly, not looking anywhere near angelic, but then, he didn't look devilish either. It's probably nothing, she told herself. With a sigh she flopped onto her bed and pulled the covers up.  
  
She had trouble sleeping though. After all her nights outdoors she felt penned up and trapped inside the inn; it did no good to try to rationalize with her mind, she continued she fear the walls around her. There were noises below too, for the common room was far from empty despite the subdued appearance of the crowd at dinner. People were frightened but not terrified. So why couldn't she get her heart to stop hammering? Was it the man who had been watching her? She had no reason to fear him. Eyes couldn't harm and as for his intentions she should be prepared, as long as he hadn't been sent to bring her home, which she doubted. She stared up and the beams of the ceiling above her, and fell into a thoughtless half-doze.  
  
Suddenly she sat bolt upright, feeling and echoing Pinecone's panic. There was something wrong in his stall, something that shouldn't be there. Quickly she tossed the covers off her bony knees and through on some spare clothing. She grabbed the knife that fury had slipped into her hand little more than a week before. Her hand was sweating and the wooden handle seemed treacherous in her grip. She paused at the door to glance back at the imperious young lord. He looked even uglier in his sleep but he was snoring peacefully.  
  
No one seemed to notice her as she crept hurriedly downstairs and out the door. She broke into a run as she approached the stables. She flung open the door; saw a light flickering at Pinecone's stall. She sprang forwards, fear filling her steps.  
  
Pinecone kicked out and a dark figured staggered backwards, doubled over. She saw a knife glinting in the flickering light. Stella screamed and rushed towards Pinecone. He was terribly frightened and defiant. All to quickly, she found herself standing between Pinecone and the man with the knife; she had a knife but she also knew that even if she were capable of attacking a person-which at least point seemed likely because he was attacking Pinecone-her opponent would probably have considerably more experience than she did at knife fighting. Stella wondered yet again about her suicidal inclinations as she raised the knife.  
  
He slashed as her with the knife but she brought her knife of to defend herself, miraculously managing to avoid decapitation. He made a quick darting motion, almost too quick to be humanly possible, and sliced a cut across the knuckles of her knife hand. Stella screamed and tried to knock his knife out of his grip but she was too slow. They jabbed at each other for a few minutes while Stella's grip on the knife loosened, she was bleeding and the blood made everything slippery. Then she over-swung and knocked away the lantern.  
  
Sparks flew everywhere and smoke began pouring from a beam. It was darker now, the fire the lantern had started was small for the moment. Stella had the uncanny sensation of realizing her opponent could see well in the dark. Suddenly he grabbed her wrist as though he meant to fling her away. Instead of striking at him with the knife, she turned and pushed his arm backwards flinging him to an imaginary spot below his center of gravity. She was amazed at her instinct; she had practiced the trick the Riders had taught her much, but it had been effective.  
  
Without meaning to, Stella had flung him down just in front of Mouse. Mouse, being the sweet tempered pony that she was, promptly stepped on his shoulders, effectively trapping him. Stella knelt down, putting a knee on his chest and held her knife to his neck.  
  
"What are you doing?" she yelled.  
  
He didn't answer her. She realized that he had no color around his pupils; his eyes were like black holes. He opened his mouth, and his teeth suddenly became pointy. Stella gasped in alarm. He hissed sharply at her and vanished in a flash of silver light.  
  
Stella's knee hit the floor with a painful thud. She looked up and Mouse, who looked as startled as Stella felt. Pinecone too was out of sorts.  
  
"Horse lords protect me," she murmured to herself. She felt very unprotected at the moment. The slowly spreading fire caught her attention, and she hobbled over to beat it out with a saddle blanket. Somehow the fire seemed sluggish and unlikely to damage anything.  
  
She couldn't stop shaking. She knew the image of that almost human face with fangs would haunt her nightmares for the rest of her life. It was wrong; no man should look that way. She stumbled over to Pinecone and wrapped her arms around his strong neck. She found herself crying and holding his mane. Then she backed away and met his eyes.  
  
It's alright, he told her, he's gone. He leaned his head forwards to smell her and drooled on her arm. And it was horse drool that let her know her world still existed.  
  
Quote: "Were such things here as we do speak about? Or have we eaten or the insane root That takes the reason prisoner?" -Macbeth Act 1. Scene 2  
  
The quote fits, don't you think? Again, I'm sorry about the long wait between chapters. Why am I taking so many honors classes? By the way, if you want to know what's going on back at the castle, read The Daughter of Two Kings and add in a very distraught Stephen and Luke, my friend and are trying to link are stories together (note the obscure references to mages and darkness). Thank you for reading and please review. 


	17. Mysteries and Whispers

Sorry for the pathetically short and absolutely plotless chapter, it was the only way I could update before Thanksgiving. Of course, the setting and some characters belong to Tamora Pierce etc.  
  
Stella crept quietly back to her room and burrowed under the covers. She was horribly tired and fell asleep almost instantly.  
  
She woke from her nightmare sweating and shaking. She tossed the covers off her body and tiptoed to the window. It was early morning; the sunrise was just beginning to appear over the tree tops. But Stella couldn't shake away the dark images of the previous night. Every time she closed her eyes she saw the man's eyes again, or his terrible, unnatural teeth.  
  
She dressed quickly and walked out to see Pinecone again. He was as comforting as he had been the night before. While she was in the stables, she noticed something strange: the pillar that had been burning the night before looked completely untouched, as though it had never been on fire. She stared at it for a few minutes, and then looked down at her hand. The cut was still there, and her hand was painful this morning.  
  
Half an hour later she returned to her room, thinking that she should not leave her young charge alone for so long.  
  
"I'm hungry," he announced as she entered the room.  
  
"All right," she sighed. She had wanted to rush out of town but she knew they should eat something first and probably buy supplies. "Get dressed and I'll call for breakfast."  
  
Their laundry came with the fresh rolls, pears, and ham. Stella found she had forgotten what clean clothes smelled like. She packed their things immediately after breakfast. Then she settled the bill and they went out to saddle the horses.  
  
"What's that on your hand?" Lord Lucas was pointing to her cut.  
  
"I'll explain when we're on the road," she muttered, and he shot her a look but didn't say anything.  
  
They rode to the market, and Stella bought blankets, dried meat, a small pot, a few apples, bread, and, getting a sudden idea, some sugar. The saddle packs were bulging when she had finished, but she thought they could travel for a few weeks without stopping for supplies again.  
  
"Now will you tell me about your hand?" her traveling companion whined after they had ridden a few hours. So Stella told him quickly, it was against her better judgment, but she needed to tell someone and the only person around was an imperious seven-year-old. He listened, wide eyed and quiet and he didn't say much until dinner time.  
  
That night she tried something new; she chopped up apples and put them in a pan with breadcrumbs, butter, and sugar. She had realized that she missed hot food and it was so cold that night. Lord Lucas liked it so much that he offered to clean up camp the next morning if she would make it again. Ha ha, she thought to herself, I have power.  
  
That night she was glad she brought the extra blankets as soft wet snowflakes fell to the ground. The days only grew colder after that, and it got darker sooner, but a compulsion had taken over Stella. She didn't know what was pulling her-for it was a pull now, not a push from within-but SOMETHING most certainly was. She stopped later and later each night, despite the dark and the cold, and she woke earlier and earlier each morning. Pinecone too seemed to sense it, no matter what the weather was- and the winter was setting in early and harsh-he was impatient to be off every morning. Lord Locus was not impatient and would have liked more sleep, but he was pulled inevitably along.  
  
Stella heard whispers now too, urging her onwards. "Hurry, hurry!" they would say, or "Keep moving." And she would listen to them. When she woke up she would feel that she had forgotten something important and would desperately scrabble after her dream, only to have it slip away.  
  
Quote: "I don't suffer from insanity, I enjoy each and every moment of it."  
  
Hopefully I will be able to post another chapter after Thanksgiving break, I'll try to work on writing it in between loads of dishes. Have a great holiday and please review. 


	18. Shadowman

I finally found the time to write another chapter. Sorry about the long break. I hope everyone had great holidays. I think my sister already regrets getting me the soundtrack to Lord of the Rings ( her room is right next to mine.) As always, the location and some of the characters belong to Tamora Pierce, may her next book be published early.  
  
The trouble, Stella realized, in a quiet moment before drifting off to sleep, was that she had been restless and she had wanted to go somewhere- she still wouldn't want to go back to her life exactly as it had been, but she did miss her family and wanted to visit home for a while-but that wish had become a compulsion as though someone had taken over her mind and was directing her onwards. Whose decision had it been which direction she traveled? Why had she met Old Heather? Would Old Heather have done this to her? She didn't think so, but she did think Old Heather had known something about it.  
  
Lord Lucas complained about the pace sometimes, and other times he looked at her with an awed expression, as though he didn't think she were quite real, and did exactly as she told him. It was all very strange. She felt as if she were fading away into something else.  
  
Pinecone whistled shrilly and she looked up from her thoughts. She thought she glimpsed a dark cloaked figure passing through the trees. Hurriedly as put another branch on the fear. Fear washed over her and her breathing grew shallow and rapid. "Who-who's there?" she stammered. She wasn't really expecting the shadow to answer her.  
  
"I am." There voice that answered her was pure insinuating and echoing malice. The speaker wished fear and pain upon her, he hated her with a hate beyond any natural emotion. He was evil, pure, unhesitating evil; the kind that would laugh at a helpless child.  
  
Stella gripped her knife, although she didn't think it would do any good against this kind of attacker. She crawled to her left, putting herself between the shadow and Lord Lucas( before she could rationally wonder why she was protecting him, although she didn't think anyone deserved to be attacked by the shadow). "What are you?" she called, trying to keep her voice from quavering.  
  
" 'What are we?' is the question you should ask, for all your world will soon know the answer. You will remember us and then you will fear us, and we shall triumph." He laughed a mirthless laugh; it was dry and racking, almost like a cough.  
  
I don't like the word 'we', she thought, one is far too many. She stared in horror at the creature, trying to see just what he was, but she could only make out a blurred outline of his cloak. He seemed to draw darkness towards him; or maybe darkness came from him?  
  
"We shall rise. We are strong, and you are all that has been placed against us. Fate and destiny crumble and are rebuilt."  
  
The shadow extended and arm towards Stella, she caught a glimpse of bone in the firelight. I don't like the sound of this, she thought, I really, really don't like the sound of this. I don't believe in destiny, she though desperately, not for me anyway, I want to chose my life. But what about what Old Heather said, came a nagging voice in her mind, she saw this was before you.  
  
"Don't worry," came the cruel voice again, "you won't meet your doom tonight. Even I, the most powerful of my brothers, must follow a few of the rules."  
  
What is it with rules, she thought, he can't be on the same side as old Heather, Old Heather may not be entirely good, but she isn't evil either, she's kind. How many rules are there? How can I be playing if I don't know the rules? Or am I just a playing piece, a pawn? Fear ran like a mouse down Stella's spine.  
  
"Our servant nearly stopped you earlier," the voice came again, dripping with loathing, making Stella shudder with aversion.  
  
"What servant?" she gasped, and then she knew. The creature in the inn was his servant. She swallowed hard and looked up; the shadow creature was gone, he had melted into the night. She bit her lip to keep from screaming, breathing raggedly.  
  
He's gone, she told herself, he's not here anymore. This was not the least bit comforting, as he hadn't been there before he appeared, and thus could reappear at anytime. There were more of them, she felt sick at the thought. What were they? He hadn't answered that. Were they some kind of unheard of Immortal?  
  
She hadn't realized she had been sleepy. She was, in fact, wide awake after the encounter but somehow she woke up the next morning and couldn't account for the rest of the night. Maybe the shadow creature was just a nightmare she told herself. But then she saw a small patch of black cloth on the ground near where the shadow creature had been. She broke a branch of a bush and poked it. The branch, which had been alive enough considering the time of year, instantly began to whither. She screamed and dropped it. Okay, she told herself, he wasn't a nightmare.  
  
She took a deep breathe, as though searching the air for answers. All right, she thought, I'm going back to tell somebody big and important about these things, and they can deal with them while I get punished for taking Pinecone. I've probably already fulfilled by destiny by seeing the thing, she told herself, somebody else can get rid of it.  
  
She woke her annoying companion and cleaned up camp quickly, eager to be far away from the shadow creature. However, as soon as she mounted Pinecone and tried to turn him around to head home she couldn't, she couldn't move. She found herself moving him forwards before she could stop it. Wait, she tried to tell him with her mind, stop, turn around. But he couldn't, he too was moving inexorably forwards.  
  
Stella ground her teeth in frustration. It seemed she had no choice in the matter after all. And she didn't think there was any chance of her surviving an encounter with several shadow creatures.  
  
Quote: "They say that time is the greatest teacher, but unfortunately........it kills all it's students." ~Anonymous 


	19. Evil Omens

Of course, the location and some of the characters belong to Tamora Pierce.  
  
Stella sighed; it had been a long morning full of thinking. None of her thoughts had been pleasant. She kept remembering things. She remembered things the shadow man had told her the night before. She thought of her restlessness before setting off with Pinecone, how desperate she had been to leave then. She thought of how easy it had been to escape from the bandit camp, too easy, as though some force was helping her, pushing her onwards.  
  
There were old Heather's words as well. "I'm altering things, helping you. In your case that's against the rules for me, but I'm doing it anyway" she had said. Stella still hadn't the foggiest idea what was going on, but she didn't like feeling manipulated. Somehow, she didn't think old Heather was manipulating her, just assisting her through some difficulties she would have to face anyway. There were several forces at work here and she seemed to be in the middle of all of them.  
  
She couldn't seem to lose the sense that she was being followed either. Every time she looked back there was no one there but Lucas, but she still felt as though someone, or something, were following her. Stella knew there was a shadow creature, or something like one behind her.  
  
They emerged slowly from the woods and continued on the road through a fielded area. Just as the reach the point of the road closest to a dead tree, lightning came out of nowhere and struck it. Mouse reared and dumped Lord Lucas, who promptly began whining about "idiot ponies" and "if my father knew". The tree ignited and began burning. Stella thought she heard cruel, hacking laughter but she wasn't sure where it came from. Stella reached out her thoughts and caught Mouse, pulling her back with images of comfort and security. She realized suddenly that her Wild Magic had been gradually increasing in power. She hadn't seen it growing but it most certainly had been. She helped Lord Lucas remount and they continued onwards.  
  
It began to grow dark by just after noon and Stella still felt watched by unseen eyes. Lucas seemed edgy and he too was looking behind him repeatedly. Stella hadn't told him about the night before, she hadn't wanted to terrify him and she didn't think his knowing about it would change anything.  
  
Stella swallowed, her mouth was dry and her hands shaking with the knowledge that something was wrong, terribly wrong. Her magic sensed the presence of something that should never have come to be, something that opposed her progress and wanted her to turn around more than she herself wanted to turn around. Lightning flashed again, this at least did not seem supernatural, or if it was supernatural it was accompanied by natural thunder and the sudden onset of violent hail.  
  
"We're not camping out tonight are we," Lord Lucas whined fifteen minutes later. Stella was about to tell him that yes they were camping out, or did he want to keep riding in this weather when she looked ahead and saw lights in the far distance. They didn't look evil, only lonely. She had plenty of money, Old Heather's coins kept replacing themselves.  
  
"No," she called back, raising her voice against the wind, "We'll stay in that village up ahead." WILL YOU? A voice thundered in her mind, ONLY IF YOU CAN MAKE IT IN TIME; WE ARE JUST BEHIND YOU.  
  
"Let's hurry," she yelled as Pinecone burst into a gallop.  
  
  
  
Quote: "Does the path chose the walker or the walker the path?" The Book of the Dead, from Sabriel by Garth Nix.  
  
By the way, Abhorsen is out, or should be soon!  
  
Thank you for reading and reviewing. Reviews quite literally make my day, or even my week. 


	20. Narrow Miss

Sorry about the delay again. Drivers Ed is the biggest waste of time. I am going to try to update every Friday from now on, and maybe Mondays or Wednesdays too depending on my schedule. As always, the location and some of the characters belong to the magnificent Tamora Pierce.  
  
A shadow seemed to be forming out of the darkness around them. Twisting and shaping itself until it had tangible form. Stella thought it might be gathering itself into one of the shadow men. Don't panic, she thought; and then she promptly proceeded to panic. "Hurry," she called to the boy behind her. He kicked Mouse sharply but the small pony was already running as fast as she could, and besides, she was tired from a day of traveling.  
  
"She can't keep up," Lucas called to Stella. And Stella saw that the shadow was inching closer and closer to Mouse and Lucas. She swallowed and tried to judge the distance to the village, she thought that maybe if they could get close enough to the lantern light the shadow creature would leave them alone.  
  
It was too far, Mouse would never make it. "I'm coming," she called back. In an act of will, she turned Pinecone around and raced back towards Mouse. She turned again, so that Pinecone and Mouse were running in the same direction. She slowed Pinecone and Mouse to a trot. Then she reached and put her arms around Lord Lucas's waist. "Ready?" she asked. He was too frightened to nod. She tried to lift him out of the saddle and put him in front of her. He was too heavy. In the end she slid him off the side of Mouse and pulled him, kicking and screaming, up to Pinecone's withers.  
  
The second Lucas was secure on Pinecone Stella urged him to a faster pace. Pinecone quickly pulled ahead of Mouse. The pony struggled to keep up, panicking at the scent of evil behind her. It smelled of death and rotting things. But Mouse was couldn't catch up to Pinecone, Pinecone, in his own would not be persuaded to slow down. Stella kept throwing anguished glances over her shoulder as Mouse was overtaken. Tears filled her staring as Mouse was surrounded by the shadow, she seemed to age, die, and decay within seconds. After a minute there was nothing left of Mouse except bones.  
  
Pinecone ran faster and faster. They gained the shelter of the lantern light instants before the shadow. As soon as they entered the village the shadow pulled back and condensed itself into several robed figures, which shrank back into the darkness to wait. Pinecone slowed to a trot and Stella guided him to a rather dingy looking inn, the only one in the village.  
  
There was no stable boy so Stella had to care for Pinecone herself, trying to calm his nerves and her own, while Lord Lucas sat in a tearstained heap in the corner.  
  
"Come on," Stella said, "let's go dry off." She took his hand and led him across the courtyard to the inn door. The interior of the inn was brightly lit, and it looked as though the owners had tried to keep it in good condition, but were currently short on money. A delectable smell was coming from the large and very battered pot hanging over the cooking fire. It was very warm. Stella couldn't help smiling.  
  
They were greeted by a middle aged woman in a dress that looked like it had seen better days. "What can I do for you lads?"  
  
Of course, in her winter clothes, no one would be able to tell she was female. With her hair tied back simply she probably looked like a thirteen-year-old boy. Stella decided not to correct the woman's mistake, maybe a disguise would keep her for being noticed; she breathed a quiet prayer of thanks that Lucas was too tired to notice and pipe up about the mistake.  
  
"Supper and rooms for the night, please," Stella stammered out between chattering teeth.  
  
"Just set your packs in the corner there, Lissar will carry them up." She cast about the room for an empty table and led them to one near the fire. Stella was surprised at how crowded the inn was; it seemed to be the only gathering place in the run-down village. She brought each of them large bowls the soup, which was mostly vegetable but had good chicken broth in it, and fresh bread. It had been ages since their last hot meal, and many hours since the last time they had eaten, and both dug in eagerly. Lord Lucas attacked his vegetables with surprising relish.  
  
The inn was surprisingly crowded for the weather and the time of year, or perhaps it wasn't surprising that the people of the village should gather together in difficult times. In any case, the innkeeper and his wife and daughters were kept busy. Stella and Lucas had stayed in the dining room after most of the crowd had left. Stella tucked herslef into a corner, nursing a cup of hot cider while the innkeeper's twins, two tall skinny girls of about ten, cleaned up the tables.  
  
After a while, the innkeeper himself came out and slumped into a chair by the fire. His daughters' bright eyes fell on him at once, and "Tell us a story, Da" they both pleaded simultaneously. Their father gave a weary chuckle and agreed.  
  
"Which story?" he asked with a quiet sigh.  
  
"The one about the night-" started Melia,  
  
"Wizards." Delia finished the sentence.  
  
At the girls words Stella felt a shiver run down her spine. She had the sudden sensation of remembering a dream. She knew instantly that this had happened before and that this was part of her own story. Swallowed hard and then settled back, silent as a stone, to listen to the tale.  
  
By the way, Melia and Delia are based on real people. Yes, be afraid, be very afraid.  
  
Quote: "So its always a new story. I mean it's the same, but its different." - Solomon The Price Arthur Miller  
  
Thank you so much for reading and please review. 


	21. Night Wizards

Here's an explanation for the shadow men, or at least the start of one. Of course the location and some of the characters belong to Tamora Pierce. Although at this point I should probably give Tolkien, Garth Nix and Meredith Ann Pierce ( don't know if she's related to Tammy or not but she writes great books) some credit for stirring my subconscious.  
  
"Well, once upon a time," the girls' father began in the same fashion as hundreds of other parents telling hundreds of other bedtime stories that night, but this story was no ordinary tale, the very first words sent shivers of destiny down Stella's spine. "In the ancient days, this village was a great city, filled with mages and philosophers. It was packed with palaces and universities, and scholars came from far and wide." The girls put down their cleaning rags and settled on the bench next to their father, their eyes taking on a dream-like quality.  
  
"Now it happened that seven brilliant young mages, brothers, journeyed to the city to study. They studied well and within a few years they were the most powerful mages in the world. Not one of them was more powerful than any of the others, but all of them could top every other mage in the world, and when they combined their power, which they often did, they were an incredible force.  
  
"They built themselves a magical house around ten miles north of the town. The brothers wanted to live their lives out their teaching magic and working new spells. From the very beginning they brought more young mages to the city for training. The Seven used their powers wisely and well; they wrought spells to keep pestilence and plague from the city. Their magic made the city flourish; it built bathhouses, temples, and gardens overnight.  
  
"The wizards had many magical interests and created many new spells, all of which are still used today, but they were most absorbed with finding a spell which could provide its caster with eternal youth (for while the wizards were not very old in years, their great power-workings had been costly to their bodies, graying their bright hair, and wrinkling their brows; and like all mages they were vain.) They began searching far and wide for a magical way to prevent old age, even as they continued to throw themselves into their power, going for days without food or sleep in pursuit of it.  
  
"And slowly, very slowly their power began to corrupt them. They were addicted to it. The Seven would perform magical working merely for the sake of feeling their own power. Some of their more advanced students began to join them in these magical workings, while others left before completing their training out of fear for what the wizards had become. Meanwhile, they neglected the city they had once protected so well, disease began to spread and thieves became abundant; the city began to collapse.  
  
"The people begged the wizards for aid but either they were so far gone in their own powers that they could not hear or they no longer cared for the people's welfare. Soon the Seven turned on the very city that they had nurtured for so long. They began to drain the life-force of the city, pulling it towards themselves. Everyone grew weak and sickly, and they tired easily. Children no longer ran about the streets, but sat still and played quietly. Flowers seemed to wilt before they had fully bloomed, and the trees began to die. The city fell into a dark snow-less winter, the world around the city seemed drained of color, it fell into shades of grey; and the power of the mages grew ever stronger.  
  
"As they drained the lives of others, their own lifeblood was failing them. It slowly leeched away from them, leaving them grey, gaunt, and skeletal. The wizards became brittle and hollow shells; mere shadows of life. The people of the city quickly learned to fear their power and many tried to flee the city. But the evil mages bared the gates and the people had no strength to resist them. Their flames of life were dwindling and the land was falling into a dark sleep.  
  
"There were a few; however, with the strength to resist the Night Wizards, for so they had come to be called, these were apprentice mages and journeymen. They processed little power, but what they had they devoted to fighting the Night Wizards. They joined together, channeling their power for strength; they called themselves the Stars for they sought to bring light into the darkness, and just as one star alone cannot light the light, no one of them alone could have fought the Seven.  
  
"Somehow they channeled all their power together, bringing all their strengths and weaknesses into one power. They used this force of vibrancy and life the overcome the Seven, though the mystery of how they did this has long been forgotten. The Seven fought and resisted, and their few followers as well, but in the end all they could do was to destroy the city they had created before they were destroyed. And slowly people began to forget, and color seeped back into the land. The Stars spread themselves across the world, and almost all magic today is descended from them."  
  
He stopped speaking and looked down at his daughters; they were curled up in identical positions on each side of him as though they were bookends. Stella thought they were asleep, but then they twitched and asked, "Da, were the Night Wizards killed?"  
  
Their father was silent along time before he answered. Stella's body went tense as she stared at the dying flames and waited to hear. "No," he said finally, "they are not dead, merely overcome. They are shadows of what they once were, and it is said that they are buried deep and bond back and can do no more harm. But, sometimes I wonder."He looked at his daughters again. "Their followers are said to be fanged demons who wait for them to rise, but I do not believe such nonsense."  
  
I do, thought Stella, it's just as real as shadows that smell of rot and leave dead ponies in their tracks. It's just as real as destiny, echoed a voice in her head, a voice that sounded like Old Heather.  
  
Quote: "She is one with the upholstery," agreed Miss Bunchberry."-GREEN RIDER, Kristen Britain.  
  
Thank you for reading and please review. 


	22. Nightmares

The location and some of the character belong to Tamora Pierce. This chapter is slightly different than the others but I think it makes some progress for the plot.  
  
Like a mage breaking off his concentration at the end of working some great smell the innkeeper murmured, "Bedtime, girls." And slowly, sleepily the girls stumbled off to their room. As though this were an unspoken signal to the rest of the room all the remaining patrons, mostly world-weary-looking middle-aged men, cleared out of the tavern-they stumbled too, but more from drink than fatigue. Stella carefully set down her already cold cider and scooped up Lord Lucas; he'd fallen asleep in her lap. She carried him up to their room and awkwardly opened the door with on hand. She set him down at one end of the bed; he was frowning slightly in his sleep, and he whimpered softly when she put him down.  
  
Stella tucked the blankets over her adopted charge, blew out the light, and paced over to the window so she could think. Her thoughts seemed to have gotten out of control and were wreaking havoc in her mind. The Night Wizards. Old Heather. Destiny. The Stars. Mouse. Lord Lucas. Demons with fangs. People who aged too quickly. Evil Magic.  
  
Stella sighed and looked out at the night sky. She shivered as a memory surfaced in her mind. Star, her mother had called her Star when she was very young. "My little Star," she would say, "you will shine brightly some day. Stella felt goose bumps all over her arms.  
  
"Ma," she whispered to the darkness, "I wish you were here to take me home." Then she was suddenly immeasurably weary; she barely stumbled back to the bed before she fell asleep. Her sleep was deep, but uneasy and filled with dreams.  
  
  
  
She crouched in the darkness her whole body tense, waiting. Gamel held her small cold hand in his large warm one. His body too was tense and sweat glistened on his brow in the moonlight. They had been still for hours, waiting. She was stiff and cramped and exhausted but it would all be worth it if they could defeat the Night Wizards.  
  
She could feel her heart beating faster and faster in her fear. Why was she so afraid? Yes, the Night Wizards were to be feared, but she had never trembled this way before. She had always been so independent spirited, why now did she want to burrow into Gamel's embrace? As if sensing her fear he squeezed her hand for reassurance.  
  
After a while Gamel cleared his throat and whispered to her. "Dear heart, I'm not sure we're going to live through this." She met his eyes, she had. She tried to fill her face with courage. Then he spoke again, so softly she could barely hear, "I want you to know that I love you." He spoke these words as though they were unrelated to his previous sentence but both he and she knew that they were connected.  
  
"I know," she answered. And they were silent again, preparing themselves for the moment when they would fling themselves into the battle. The moment when for the sake of life and living, they would join with a hundred other powers, placing their strength of will against the Night Wizards. The moment when good would fight evil and their lives would fight their deaths.  
  
  
  
  
  
Her body was gone. She was floating in a cloud, listening to people argue. Despite their angry tones the voices were strangely melodious. Everything was peaceful around her; here, she was too light for worries.  
  
"They were your stupid mistake in the first place," someone was saying, his voice sounded both ancient and young.  
  
"They were beautiful in the beginning," replied an old, creaky voice.  
  
"She was right to break the rules; we should have changed things long ago." This voice was a woman's beautiful and terrifying at once.  
  
"Its too late now," the first voice spoke again, "we can only watch now." His words were filled with the regret of eternities.  
  
"There may yet be hope," the young woman spoke again. "She is stronger willed than you realize."  
  
"She has no choice," the young man replied, "none of us do."  
  
  
  
"Mouse!"  
  
Lord Lucas's scream woke Stella instantly, pulling her swiftly away from her dreams. She was instantly alert, and yet her mind was stilled filled with dream-images. Her dreams had seemed so real, as though they had been actual events that she had only witnessed.  
  
He was still asleep, he had called out in a nightmare. "I'm sorry," she whispered in his ear. "I miss her too, but I promise I won't let it happen to you." A voice in her head whispered that she would fight the night wizards but she pushed it back and tried to ignore. She was quite ready yet.  
  
Quote: "sooner or later you've heard all your best friends have to say. Then comes the tolerance of real love." --Ned Rorem  
  
Thank you for reading and please review. 


	23. Demons and Destiny

Of course the location and some of the characters belong to Tamora Pierce. I think this chapter has a bit more action, or at least plot than the last one. Enjoy!  
  
Stella shifted in the saddle and craned her neck trying to see around the bend. It was late afternoon and she had been riding all day. Pinecone snorted reassuringly and she settled in the saddle again. A moment later she glanced nervously back at Lord Lucas. He was riding the pony anyone in the village had been willing to part with-a ragged eared, bony backed creature; the pony was named Tomcat in what Stella thought was a sick twist of irony.  
  
~~~  
  
She had tried to leave Lord Lucas behind at the inn, explaining to the innkeeper that she would be back to pick up her "cousin" in a day or two as she paid him from her magically refilling pouch. At that moment, however, he had wrapped himself about her feet and refused to let go until she agreed to bring him.  
  
~~~  
  
"Why did you want to come so badly?" she called back to him.  
  
"You're kind of like what I imagined an older sister would be, even if you make me eat vegetables." Stella blinked in shock. There was something gratifying in hearing him say that after she had lugged him all this way. I hope that he shares that with his parents before they have me beheaded if we both live through this, she thought.  
  
~~~  
  
Stella had no reason to believe that she would be successful. She didn't even have a plan. She didn't even have an idea of what might work. Her dreams the night before had not been very specific. She had asked the innkeeper if he knew where the Night Wizards had been overcome, but his only response had been a questioning look. Stella had carefully asked him if he knew where there house had been, and he had warily given her directions. She had thanked him, bought Tomcat, and left the village quickly.  
  
Their ride had not gone smoothly so far. Ominous winds and flashes of lightning seemed to cover the path. The sun hadn't truly risen at all that day, the world around Stella remaining in a dull gray blur. Stella had been nervous and jumpy all day, glancing behind and to the sides every few minutes.  
  
~~~  
  
Now they were almost to their destination. Stella felt, somehow, that she would recognize the place when she saw it, despite the poor description the man had given. A chilling wind darted through the trees, making Stella shiver and turn up her hood. She knew that it was almost time for sunset, when true not would begin, and she felt the rising power of the Night Wizards, a power opposite her Wild Magic, the very negative image of it. She sensed it the way a person in a well-lit room senses darkness outside their door. Stella closed her eyes, trying to think, but it did no good, fear pervaded all her thoughts.  
  
They rounded the corner and Stella's head jerked upwards in astonishment. They had arrived. The land changed suddenly to a desolate wasteland, devoid of life and greenery. It was winter everywhere, but in other places the promise of spring had not been forgotten. Here it seemed as if spring would never come. This place had been winter for ages and would be winter for ages to come. It was rocky and bare except for a few ancient and gnarled trees.  
  
But it was empty. It was desolate but not filled with darkness. It was filled with nothing. Stella squinted trying to find some great and unstoppable evil in the place. She could only find sadness, a tired ancient sadness that had lost all but the faintest traces of hope. All right, she thought, I'm here, I've rushed to meet my destiny, I've accepted fate, and now I have to do something. She wasn't sure what it was exactly that she was supposed to do.  
  
After a moment or two of thought she sighed and decided on a course of action. "Stay here," she told Lord Lucas hoarsely. She dismounted, she couldn't ask Pinecone to walk with her, if he chose to come it would have to be of his own will. Then she stumbled across the rocky, barren ground, her steps slow and uneven. She headed straight towards the center of the empty land, her footsteps crunching and echoing. She was about halfway to the middle when she heard slow and determined hoof beats following her, she turned to see Pinecone a ways behind her. Stella smiled in relief. She hadn't felt ready to face whatever this might be alone.  
  
Stella reached the center and stood still to wait for Pinecone. Her breath was coming fast and shallow and she was sweating and shivering at the same time. Pinecone bumped his nose into the base of her neck and whuffled for reassurance. She stroked his velvety nose and squared her shoulders.  
  
"I am here," she yelled in as loud and as brave a voice as she could manage. She didn't think she sounded particularly loud or brave, but she thought she sounded better than she felt. Stella looked around and felt foolish; she had expected a response of some kind.  
  
For a few minutes, after the echoes of her shout died away, there was absolute stillness and silence. Then slowly and lazily, as though it weren't really worth the effort, darkness and shadow began to circle and then to surround the barren land. Stella felt a lurch of fear in her gut. These being could kill her in an instant. She would shrivel with old age in a matter of seconds at their touch, becoming nothing more than a pile of ash and dust to be scattered by the wind.  
  
The shadows grew larger and more palpable. Stella watched them apprehensively; she tried not to let her fear show. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lord Lucas urging Tomcat away from the shadows. She was relieved that they didn't seem to be attacking him. Maybe their power wasn't truly as great as she thought. Stella stood still and waited for her enemy to make the next move.  
  
Footsteps began to sound across the land again, this time in the opposite direction from the way Stella had come. Stella looked around Pinecone and saw a figure coming towards her. She wasn't sure because of the distance but she thought it looked like the demon she had fought weeks ago in the inn. She glanced at the scars on her hand and felt another stab of fear.  
  
He came closer. Stella was positive it was the demon from the inn. His form was somehow less human than it had been before, it was more bear- like, or monster-like. Her eyes widened with astonishment. He saw her face and grinned at her. His teeth were definitely fangs.  
  
"Hello," he said in a voice that was sharp and hissing with malice. "I, the nameless servant of the Night Wizards, am here also. We are but two pawns, you and I, small insignificant pieces controlled by greater players. And here, we are brought into conflict with each other. We are mere trinkets to growl over before the real battle begins. When I defeat you it will be but the beginning of the Night Wizards' conquest, a beginning I am honored to take part in."  
  
Stella glared at him as he spoke, horror rapidly becoming rage. When she answered him her voice was thick with fury. "I may be a pawn, I may be a servant, I may even be without free will in this matter. At least I am not without free will in all matters as you are. I can say, as I believe you cannot, that I trust the powers I defend here. I love my country and my world and I will not let them fall. I am no trinket to be trifled with. GO back to your masters and tell them the real battle begins NOW. I am not a minor irritation to be dispatched with so easily. They must face me themselves."  
  
Stella took a deep breath after her extemporized speech. She'd said a few things that she wasn't sure if she meant. Her words hadn't as if they were her own, she felt as if they belonged to her but were not of her. They were her destiny, she had been waiting her entire life to say them and now she had found them. Stella felt oddly detached from her situation, as though it were a story a bard was singing and she were merely listening.  
  
  
  
Quote: "I don't suffer from insanity. I enjoy every minute of it."  
  
Thank you (I think it should be one word, thankyou, but spell check doesn't agree with me) for reading and please review. 


	24. Choose

Sorry about the delay in posting and the short chapter. I had a flu/sleeping sickness for a week. I will warn you, some of this was written was I was under the influence of cough syrup and a fever. Of course, the location and some of the characters belong to Tamora Pierce.  
  
Pinecone turned slowly, his footsteps loud in the still air, so that he was facing the same direction as Stella. She reached out a grateful hand and steadied herself on his withers. Her legs were wobbling and she felt as though unseen hostile eyes were staring at her-which they probably were.  
  
The demon turned slowly and began walking away. After about 20 paces he suddenly vanished. Stella shivered and shuffled her feet slightly. At least by the time I see them they won't surprise me, she thought.  
  
Stella waited for what seemed like a long time, but was in actuality a few minutes. Time moved differently in the devastated area. She looked down and noticed that she seemed to be going thin and grey, fading away as though she too were about to disappear.  
  
"No," she shouted and cast her will out to Pinecone, Tomcat, Lord Lucas, the trees, anything and everything that was alive and living. She clung to life with her Wild Magic, refusing to let them drain her this way. Abruptly, they stopped trying to drain her. She gasped for air but she didn't retract her grip from the living beings around her.  
  
"WE CANNOT DESTROY YOU THAT WAY. SO BE IT. IT MATTERS LITTLE TO US. YOU ARE NOTHING BUT AN INSECT BUZZING AROUND US."  
  
Despite the peril she was in, Stella had to bite back a laugh. She remembered a story one of the Riders had told her that summer. His friend had been dashing through the woods on horseback and had been so distracted by a biting fly that he was knocked off his horse and nearly killed by a spidren. A surge of mirth threatened to fill her heart; they were underestimating her.  
  
She felt rather than saw herself being surrounded. The Night Wizards were approaching, circling, closing in. Pinecone shifted uneasily. They tried to drain her life away again, but Stella was braced and ready for them, she clung to her life and did not let herself fade away.  
  
"WHY DO YOU STRUGGLE SO? YOU ARE ONLY PROLONGING THE INEVITABLE. THERE IS NO NEED TO FIGHT US. YOU ARE HURTING YOURSELF. WHY DO YOU BOTHER?"  
  
Again, words fell from Stella before she could stop them. Words whose origin she couldn't guess. The words brought vivid images into her mind as though there was some power hidden in them that made them more real than the barren land. Tears springing into her eyes, she struggled to keep her voice even and steady.  
  
"I stand against you because I am for life. You are only for power and so power hungry that you are afraid to die. You are dead and yet you have "lived" for hundreds of years. I am alive; I work hard and I get hurt sometimes and I know that one day I will die but I accept that because living is worth it. There is pain in life but there is also joy. I stand against you because there is sunshine that warms my shoulders, because there are barn cats without tails who melt like warm butter in my arms, because there are horses who run across fields for no reason other than the wind against their backs, there are fathers who tell their children bedtime stories, there are mothers who sing lullabies, there are dogs who chase their tails. I stand against you because apples taste like freedom and hens lay eggs. And you would put an end to all this, not so that you could live forever but so that you could exist forever. You are weak and cowardly you have not the courage to accept life."  
  
As she spoke a cloud was laboriously pushed away from the sun and a weak ray of light fell across her face. Stella felt encouraged; she saw her destiny stretched out before, a path she must take to the very end. She smiled faintly for the first time in ages because she realized the truth in the words she had spoken. Life was not painless but it was worth living. And death was merely the end of life so she could accept it when her life was at an end.  
  
"You must choose life or power. You cannot have both; it is forbidden. You can have life or the ability to drain it from others but not both. You once loved life long ago; you helped a city to flourish and healed those who were crippled. It was your love of life that made you wish to be immortal. You must choose now. None save the gods are granted immortality. Choose life and accept the end of your own lives to make way for the lives of others. Remember love and joy and accept the bad with the good, as the world has accepted your evil when you should have been rejected."  
  
Stella took a moment to stop and breathe, causing the terrible power of the moment to dissipate. She decided that attempting to fulfill her destiny was exhausting. Stella stared into the gloom around her, trying to determine whether on not her words had any effect. It will be quite the anti-climax if nothing happens, she thought.  
  
For moments that seemed to last centuries to Stella nothing happens. The world grew silent and motionless. Stella wondered briefly if people far away in other places were frozen and soundless as well.  
  
Final a deep rumbling voice answered her. The voice resounded with anger and weariness. "VERY WELL." There was a flashing a blinding white light and Stella passed out; Pinecone shifted his footing so that he could shield her body as thunder shook the earth.  
  
"Good luck you can never know until the last minute." - Solomon The Price Arthur Miller Thank you for reading and please review. 


	25. Awakening

Of course, the location and some of the characters belong to Tamora Pierce. I'm sorry for the delay in updating, I'm working on some other writing projects as well as crew season right now so updates might become more sporadic than they already are, if that's possible.  
  
Stella opened quivering eyelids a few hours later. Her limbs felt fuzzy and limp and her head felt as though it had been trampled by a herd of horses. Her mind was oddly lucid.  
  
"Hmm, I wonder if this is what it's like to be hung over," She said aloud. The sound that came out of her throat was choked and grainy as though she had the flu.  
  
Pinecone whuffled anxiously at her face, nuzzling her all over to make sure she wasn't too badly injured.  
  
"I'm fine, really, I think I'll be able to sit up in a week or two," she told him, because she didn't have the strength to bat his head away. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply a few times before opening them again. This time she noticed that the sun was shining, making some of the rocks glitter with sparkles that had been hidden by the dimness. A minute or so later, she thought she heard a bird call. Maybe this isn't such an awful place after all, she thought to herself, maybe it needs a second chance.  
  
"Stella, Stella, Stella!" She recognized Lord Lucas's voice and barely had time to brace herself before he ran up to her and nearly trampled her. She winced as he stopped just in time; the wince hurt her head more. "I thought you were dead when they made the big earthquake. I thought they killed you somehow. But then, they just vanished. Only, there's something else here now. They keep swooping by and scaring me or creeping up behind me, but Pinecone has been fighting them off. I think they were the wizards' servants or something only they refused to leave with them."  
  
It was too much for Stella to take in at once, she fainted again. This time only a few minutes passed before she was aware of Pinecone slobbering all over her forehead. She slowly pulled herself back up to wakefulness. Lord Lucas was still hovering at her side.  
  
"Water," she gasped but he made no response. "Please, get me some water," she panted. Finally, he blinked and scurried off to grab one of the canteens. Stella realized that she was still in the center of the barren lands as she forced herself into a sitting position.  
  
Lord Lucas passed her the canteen and she began taking slow, careful sips of the silvery liquid. It soothed her throat and eased her headache. She began to feel more awake and aware of their situation. She looked at the sky and calculated that it was early afternoon.  
  
"Now," she whispered, "tell me all that about servants and monsters again." Lord Lucas set off explaining at a frantic pace that brought back Stella's pounding headache. It took her ten minutes to conclude that The Night Wizards appeared to have vanished but their demon servants had not. According to Lord Lucas's observations, it seemed that they did not have kindly intentions towards mankind or horsekind.  
  
Lord Lucas and Pinecone helped Stella up and, leaning on Pinecone, she made her way to the edge of the rocks. She pulled some bread out of the saddlebags and they had lunch. Stella made herself eat despite the fact that the earth still seemed to be jumping up and down beneath her.  
  
"We have to warn the king about the demons and the Night Wizards," she told Lord Lucas, while trying to pretend it wasn't really a few weeks ride to the palace.  
  
"But you'll get in trouble if you go back because of Pinecone." Stella was amazed that he had remembered.  
  
"That doesn't matter any more," she told him. She had to warn everyone, even if it meant that she would go to prison. In the early morning she had been unable to resist the urge to confront the Night Wizards, now, she couldn't resist the urge to warn the king. It seemed as if Destiny weren't quite done with her.  
  
Thank you for reading and pleas review  
  
Quote: "You plan too much, you end up with nothing." - Victor The Price Arthur Miller 


	26. Encounters

I'm sorry for the delay in posting and for the shortness of the chapter. I'll try to make the next one a little longer. At this point, since the story's first birthday was a few days ago I would like to thank everyone who has been reading and reviewing. Assuming nothing too entirely crazy happens (ha ha) I hope to have the story finished completely by late May. Of course the location and some of the characters belong to Tamora Pierce.  
  
Five hours later, Pinecone ambled to a halt. He shook his shoulders until his passenger (Stella couldn't be referred to as a rider at this point in her exhausted state) slid off. She curled into a fetal position on a soft bed of pine needles. Lord Lucas pulled his pony to a halt and dismounted. He looked at Stella and sighed before untacking the animals. He opened the saddlebag and Pinecone pulled a blanket out with his teeth and spread it over Stella. She snored and snuggled into it. Lucas grabbed some dried meat and a hunk of bread and wolfed it down sitting on a log. Then he lay down next to Stella; Pinecone pulled out another blanket and spread it over him.  
"You'll keep watch won't you," he said aloud, somehow sure that Pinecone would understand him. The horse nodded gravely in response. Lucas shut his eyes and surrendered to sleep.  
Stella woke the next morning with an empty stomach and a throbbing head. She looked up and saw Pinecone standing over her. She realized he had been there all night. He leaned down and nuzzled her face. Then, he delicately picked up the blanket with his teeth and yanked it off her. She got the message.  
  
"All right, I'm up, no rest for the weary." Thinking that the nearest village was only an hour's ride away, she decided that breakfast could wait until later.  
  
A few hours later she realized that the village was just an hour's ride away. Stella stopped and unpacked some food. "Do you have a plan?" asked Lord Lucas; his question was an echo of all the voices in Stella's head.  
  
"Um, not really. Obviously we need to tell the king about the demon- monster leftovers. So I'm heading back to Chorus, but that's going to take a while and get me in trouble so I'm open to alternative suggestions."  
  
He nodded but appeared not to have any alternative suggestions. She wondered if she couldn't drop him off at his home on the way back and then decided against it; she didn't want to be stopped and arrested for kidnapping on her way back with such a message.  
  
They continued on for a week and a half. Looking back, Stella was never sure where she found the strength to keep going. It seemed that an inexorable force was pushing her onwards past her exhaustion. The journey was in some ways the mirror image of her journey towards the Night Wizards only the weather seemed to be growing warmer rather than colder, and, while she felt unseen eyes watching her, only some of them seemed to have evil intentions. The other considerable difference was that she now commanded Lord Lucas's respect and adoration; he was cooperative and helpful and his vanity and arrogance seemed to have disappeared entirely.  
  
One night they made camp in a small clearing a short ways from the main road. Stella left Lord Lucas to care for the horses while she went to gather dry firewood (this would be quite a challenge since it had been raining for the past few days).  
  
....................................  
  
That very same night, only about half a mile away, the Lady-Knight and her Squire Neal had just made camp. Allana was injured but in relatively good humor, and she'd had just enough brandy (for medicinal purposes) that she didn't question his sudden offer to gather herbs to flavor the stew with. After all, Neal was a much better cook than she was. He slipped his book of poetry by Sir Gelindoor the Gladhearted out of his saddle bag and slipped off through the trees. Finding a comfortable looking set of roots, he propped himself against a tree, stretched out his legs, and began to read.  
  
....................................  
  
Stella sighed in frustration, after twenty minutes of searching she had found only a few dry twigs. Scanning the forest, she thought she saw a dry patch. She broke into a run, hoping she could soon get back and begin cooking dinner. Wham! She tripped and was suddenly down on her knees in the mud.  
  
"Holy Mithros !" Exclaimed a voice on her right. She turned and discovered that she had tripped of the legs of Nealan of Queenscove. She scrambled to her feet and waited for him to react.  
  
Hope you enjoyed it. I will pick up exactly where I left off next chapter. Thank you for reading and please review. 


	27. Muddy Hysterics

All right, I've turned in my sophomore paper and taken the AP bio, so I can finally read something other than Waste Excretion in terrestrial vertebrates and write something other than Patient Confidentiality in Modern Health Care. I still have hopes of finishing this story by the end of the year, we'll see how evil my history teacher gets. Once again, the location and some of the characters belong to Tamora Pierce.  
  
Neal's jaw dropped and so did his book; Stella quickly rescued it from the mud and gave it back to him. He was so dazed he could hardly reach out his hand to grab the book.  
  
"Stella ?" he said finally as though she were the obscure answer to some little known philosophical debate.  
  
She nodded grimly; there was no point in trying to lie at this point.  
  
Neal continued in a more matter-of-fact tone. "Do you realize that there are three Rider groups assigned to tracking you down? Not to mention whatever underworld spies you father has hired."  
  
Suddenly it all seemed highly entertaining. "Only three," Stella giggled. "Only three Rider groups," she shouted again before erupting into hysterical laughter. She collapsed into the mud in her waves of uncontrollable mirth. After all she had been through and all the help she could have used earlier and how worried she had been about being caught.  
  
"Well, I don't think anyone would have been assigned to look for you if it weren't for your father and Daine. I mean, Pinecone's a nice horse and all but he's not a national treasure." Stella burst into tears. Neal wondered if it was simple shock or the madness he had heard sometimes came with Wild Magic. "Come on," he muttered, "I'll take you to Lady Allana and we'll get you home."  
  
"Do you think I'll be able to talk to the king before my trial?"  
  
This question banished from Neal's mind the last vestiges of hope for Stella sanity. He sighed, wishing once again that he hadn't decided to become a knight. Ah, the beauty of hindsight. Then bent over and scooped Stella up in his arms. She wasn't heavy but she was very muddy.  
  
"Wait, we have to go get Pinecone and Lord Lucas." Neal decided not to ask whether or not she had kidnapped Lord Lucas. He had encountered the child at a few parties and knew that no one in their right mind would want to hold such an annoying boy for ransom, no matter how much money was at stake. Then again, he wasn't sure that Stella was in her right mind.  
  
"I take it they're back that way," she said, gesturing with his chin. She nodded. He set off at a brisk walk and quickly reached Stella's campsite.  
  
"What are you doing here?" whined Lord Lucas.  
  
"I'm, um, rescuing you from you kidnapper," Neal sounded utterly unconvincing, even to himself.  
  
"Thank you so much," Stella said.  
  
"She didn't kidnap me, I hired her."  
  
"Oh," said Neal. "Well let's put Stella on a horse and go see what the Lioness has to say about all this."  
  
"My father says that the Lioness is an idiotic liberal who doesn't know the proper place of women."  
  
"Your father," said Neal, "is a mindless conservative who will never think an original thought in all his life."  
  
"Too true," said Lord Lucas, shocking Neal and leaving Stella only mildly surprised.  
  
After Lord Lucas had helped saddle the horses-without complaining-and pack up the gear-without complaining-Neal felt fainter headed then Stella looked.  
  
The Lioness decided that she had definitely had more than enough brandy when the bedraggled group entered her campsite. She recognized Stella immediately, though she looked thin and old and weary, but it not her a few moments to place Lord Lucas. She grabbed the only pack she could reach without putting weight on her injured leg and began hunting for something more to add to the soup.  
  
Stella hopped down and began stammering about Pinecone and Night Wizards and bandits and Old Heather, none of which Allana understood.  
  
"Don't try to explain anything until you've eaten," she told the girl. "You look like it's been two weeks since you've had a good meal."  
  
"Two and a half," said Stella, "and that's if you count mediocre inn food."  
  
Neal pulled the saddles off Pinecone and the pony. A few minutes later they sat down to dinner. Stella was ravenously hungry, but startled at how quickly she grew full, she had been on short rations for too long.  
  
"Eat more," said Allana, who hadn't had the opportunity to mother hen anyone in weeks-excluding Neal, and she felt strange being a mother hen to him because of the professional nature of their relationship.  
  
Lord Lucas licked his bowl clean and fell asleep at his log. Neal got up and found a spare cloak and some blankets to wrap him in.  
  
Stella wanted to fall asleep too, but the Lioness wouldn't let her.  
  
"You've got to tell us your story first, or my curiosity will kill me in the night."  
  
So Stella told them her whole story, beginning with the night she ran away and ending with tripping over Neal; it took over an hour to tell. Her voice gave out in the middle and the Lioness brewed her a cup of tea. She must have slipped something extra into it because after the tea she felt much more alert. Neither Neal nor Allana said anything while she was telling her story and it was too dark to read their faces, but Stella felt as if their silence were somehow encouraging.  
  
Thank you for reading and please review! 


	28. Temper Temper

I'm finally back from summer break, and I finally (after 4 months) have an internet connection at home. I really want to finish this story within the next couple months, there isn't that much let to go. However, I am alternating between this and The Princess and the Subatomic Particle and I can only publish one chapter a weekend. Why? Because my teachers have an evil conspiracy to drive innocent young minds into insanity through stress. As always, the location and some of the characters belong to Tamora Pierce.  
  
Alanna woke the next morning to a chorus of snores; Neal, Stella, and Lord Lucas were all sleeping soundly. She got up to stir the campfire and wished she hadn't. Neal, Stella and Lord Lucas woke to a chorus of grunts and curses.  
  
"A touch stiff, are we?" Neal asked cheerfully.  
  
"I hope I live long enough to see you reach middle-age," the Lioness shot back.  
  
Stella, who having been raised in a stable had no difficulty rising early, got up to help Alanna with the fire. She was hesitant to say anything to Neal or Alanna, or even to meet their eyes; they had all fallen asleep as soon as she finished telling them her story.  
  
Alanna put a hand on her shoulder, "thanks," she murmured. "I just want you to know that I'm not dragging you back to be tried for treason or anything-- ----though I am dragging you back to talk to Numair which might be even worse. I know this is easier said then done, but just try not to worry about anything. We'll have breakfast and then head back to the palace."  
  
Stella swallowed and blinked, then, before she could stop them, words slipped out of her mouth: "I though you were supposed to a have an awful temper in the morning."  
  
Alanna smiled sweetly, "I do, it's just not being directed at you." Her eyes lit up evilly as they landed on Neal. Stella hoped that the king was offering Neal compensation or special privileges for being her squire.  
  
Five hours later, they stood mounted outside the gate of Lakefront manor. Alanna had decided it would be prudent, and not too far out of their way, to take Lord Lucas home before they continued towards the palace. Getting the gate open so that they could return him to his parents proved difficult. The guards, accustomed to a soft and whiny spoiled brat, did not recognize the quiet, travel-worn child in front of them. Alanna then tried to use her nobility and her knighthood as grounds for entry to see the boy's parents (there was not doubt that the guards recognized her.) Unfortunately, the Lord of Lakefront refused to acknowledge her knighthood because she was female; he refused to acknowledge her nobility because her husband and her adopted father did not meet his personal standards.  
  
"This does present a challenging situation," Alanna muttered. "I can't beat him at a duel to prove my superiority because he wouldn't accept my challenge." She shook her head in frustration.  
  
"Now, now, you've already injured two conservatives this week and that surpasses your weekly quota," Neal reminded her. She glared at him.  
  
Forty-five minutes later, they were still outside the gate. Neal was seated cross-legged on the road with his book of poetry. Alanna was scraping mud of her boots. Pinecone was walking around in tight restless circles and Lord Lucas was staring off into space.  
  
Stella asked Lucas if he was bored; he nodded. Suddenly, she knew how to end the stalemate. "Why don't you throw a little temper tantrum to liven things up a bit?" she asked quietly. Suddenly, his eyes lit up, he winked at her.  
  
Lord Lucas took a deep breath, he opened his mouth wide and produced a whine such as only one in a thousand children can produce, the sort of whine that leaves parents, older siblings, and other child-caretakers scarred for life. "I'M HUNGRY!"  
  
The guards winced, one even tried to cover his ears. Lord Lucas whined again. Stella had to work hard to conceal her grin as she rummaged in the saddle bag. She quickly found what she was looking for and handed it to Lord Lucas. "How about some lovely carrots?"  
  
And he was off to the races, this was his area of expertise. "EEW! NO! GROSS! YUCK! HOW DARE YOU OFFER ME FUNGUS!" He began chucking the offending vegetables at the guards.  
  
"Actually, they're root vegetables," said Neal, who seemed to have cued in on the plan.  
  
"FUNGUS!" yelled Lord Lucas.  
  
And Neal, always the champion of truth and knowledge, stooped right to his level.  
  
"VEGETABLES!"  
  
The screaming match lasted about five minutes before Alanna started worrying about damage to Neal's vocal cords and decided to end it.  
  
"SILENCE!"  
  
And there was silence, for about ten seconds, before Lord Lucas started up again. "YOU CAN'T MAKE ME BE QUIET! I'LL SAY WHATEVER I WANT! YOU'RE UGLY AND STUPID! I'M COLD! IT'S TOO WINDY!" Finally, just when Stella thought his voice might be beginning to waver, Lord Lucas point at the guards and gave another shout. "THEY'RE WIMPS!"  
  
That did it. The guards gathered together and began whispering furiously, a few minutes later they had come to a conclusion: there was only one child on earth that this could be. His nursemaid was summoned and the gate was opened. Stella just had time to wave goodbye as they whisked him away for a bath.  
  
Quote: "Cats, it has been well said, will be cats and there seems nothing to be done about it." P.G. Wodehouse.  
  
Thank you for reading and please review! 


	29. Tea but no Trial

There were times when I thought I would never finish, but I finally have. It's not a terrific ending, but there are sequels to come. The location and some of the characters belong to Tamora Pierce.  
  
As they snuck into a side entrance of the palace that evening (Alanna wanted to keep Stella out of the public view until she had spoken with Numair), Stella thought she might actually be missing Lord Lucas—or maybe it was just that she thought anything would be better than standing before the king and admitting she had stolen a horse.  
  
....  
  
"So, you've come to return my horse have you?" King Jon grinned.  
  
"Well, actually I was hoping to speak to you about a threat to the kingdom before you find be guilt of horse thievery."  
  
"Well then, let's sit down to tea and discuss it in a civilized manner," the King gestured to a table. Stella nodded blankly. "I have a number of things to discuss with you as well," he continued as he spread a napkin over his lap.  
  
"First of all, your upcoming trial: I'm under strict orders from Numair to pardon you for saving the kingdom from ancient evil wizards."  
  
Fortunately, at this moment a servant had just pulled out a chair for Stella, she fell into it gratefully. Her companions chose to ignore her shock. Alanna poured tea in a lady-like manner, while Neal helped himself to several pastries. After a few minutes, Stella managed to say, "oh, good, so he knows then."  
  
"yes and no," the king answered. "He has gone off to investigate the situation further, but I imagine he will want to have a long talk with you when he returns. He muttered something about the implications of a "wild magic life force"; it was all too technical for me."  
  
"Second, Thayet has commanded you to join the Riders," he told her. "I however, am adding the caveat that you have to gain some weight first so we don't have you slipping off a pony from exhaustion and undernourishment."  
  
Stella nodded and promptly set to work on a plate of custard tarts and apple turnovers as diligently as if they were a row of horses to be groomed.  
  
"You know," Jon said, to no one in particular, "Stella reminds me of a young woman I once knew. She has the same knack of following her destiny and getting her way at the same time."  
  
Alanna gave a delicate cough into her chamomile tea. "yes, its quite a talent, she has."  
  
Suddenly, Stella thought of something. She dropped her custard tart to her plate and stammered, "I'm not going to be charged with kidnapping Lord Lucas am I?"  
  
"Sir," said Neal, "I propose that you give her a medal of honor for rescuing the child from growing up into a spoiled conservative identical to her father."  
  
They all burst into laughter. "An excellent idea, Squire. But I have a better one. I am going to give her Pinecone."  
  
"Really?" Stella squeaked. "I mean I know Lord Lucas is obnoxious but.."  
  
"The truth," Jon interrupted, "is that I don't think Pinecone likes me very much. He's always clumsy and ornery when I ride him, but he seems to have taken to you."  
  
Stella grinned widely around a mouthful of custard tart.  
  
Quote: ...when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable must be the truth Sherlock Holmes  
  
Thank you for reading and please review. I can't access my email right now so feel free to insert suggestions for the sequel, Rider , into your reviews. I may or may not follow your plot requests but your welcome to offer them. I am very open to bringing Lord Lucas and Neal back into the story at intervals as comic relief. 


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